JOSHUAWlLLIAMCALDWELL 


THE 


A  MEMORIAL  VOLUME 


GIFT  OF 


JOSHUA  WILLIAM  CALDWELL 


A  MEMORIAL  VOLUME 


CONTAINING    HIS 


BIOGRAPHY,  WRITINGS  AND  ADDRESSES 


PREPARED  AND  EDITED  BY 

A  COMMITTEE  OF  THE  IRVING  CLUB  OF 

KNOXVILLE,  TENNESSEE 


PUBLISHED  FOR  THE  CLUB  BY 

THE  BRANDON  PRINTING  COMPANY, 

NASHVILLE,  TENN. 


CONTENTS. 


FOREWORD 5 

BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 7 

CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 55 

THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 81 

THE  SOUTH  IN  THE  REVOLUTION 93 

GOLDSMITH 103 

PURITAN  RACES  AND  PURITAN  LIVING 117 

CHANGING  CUSTOMS 137 

EAST  TENNESSEE  IN  STATE  HISTORY 141 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE 149 

LAST  DAYS  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON 153 

UNCHASTITY  IN  FICTION 163 

THOMAS  CARLYLE 175 

THE  SOUTH  is  AMERICAN      ..'.........  183 

THOREAU,  THE  NATURE-LOVER          .     .' 205 

LITERATURE  AND  LIFE  OF  A  PEOPLE     .      .      .     .     .      .      .      .  223 

AN  EPIC  OF  THE  KNOXVILLE  BAR 237 

CALHOUN  THE  STATESMAN 241 

TENNESSEE,  PAST  AND  PRESENT 253 

ATHANASIUS 267 

THE  TATER-BUG  PARSON 285 

THE  BAR  OF  THE  SOUTH 301 

JOHN  BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 311 

THE  CHRONICLE  OF  1907 325 

NOTES  CRITICAL  AND  EXPLANATORY 335 


271747 


FOREWORD. 

T  the  regular  meeting  of  the  Irving  Club,  held  on 
the  evening  of  the  day  of  Mr.  Caldwell's  death, 
the  customary  program  was  omitted.  A  brief 
memorial  tribute  was  adopted,  expressing  the  members' 
sense  of  loss  "of  a  dear  personal  friend,  a  cordial,  kindly 
brother,  a  sympathetic  counsellor  and  leader."  The  Club 
then  appointed  Messrs.  Henry  H.  Ingersoll,  Leon  Jourol- 
mon,W.T.  White,  James  Maynard  and  George  F.  Mellen 
a  committee  to  prepare  a  more  extended  memorial  for 
publication.  Warm  friends  outside  encouraged  the  com 
mittee  to  enlarge  plans,  and  make  the  volume  fully  worthy 
of  the  subject.  The  result  of  their  work  is  this  book, 
containing  the  picture,  biography  and  the  choicest  of  the 
addresses  and  literary  remains  of  Joshua  William  Cald- 
well. 

KNOXVILLE,  TENN.,  September  15,  1909. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH. 

BY  HENRY  H.  INGERSOLL  AND  GEORGE  F.  MELLEN. 

ANCESTRY. 

IOSHUA  WILLIAM  CALDWELL  was  born  at  Athens, 

Tennessee,  February  3,  1856.  He  was  the  son  of 
Alfred  Caldwell  and  wife,  Jane  Dalton  Ewing  ; 
grandson  of  John  Caldwell  and  wife,  Margaret 
Shaddan,  and  of  Dr.  Joshua  Ewing  and  wife,  Katherine 
Fulkerson;  great-grandson  of  Anthony  Caldwell  and  wife, 
Elizabeth  Aiken,  of  Samuel  Ewing  and  wife,  Mary  Houston, 
of  John  Fulkerson  and  wife,  Jane  Hughes,  and  of  Alexan 
der  Shaddan  and  wife,  Flora  Henderson.  Among  his  pri 
vate  papers  this  note  is  found:  "It  seems  that  Anthony, 
William,  Alexander,  and  two  other  brothers  were  sons  of 
John  Caldwell  and  his  wife  Jennie,  who  according  to  tradi 
tion  were  married  on  shipboard  coming  to  America/'  On 
the  mother's  side,  the  earliest  ancestor  who  settled  in 
America  was  William  Ewing,  a  native  of  Coleraine,  Ireland, 
who  emigrated  in  1725  and  settled  in  Maryland.  The 
dominant  strain  in  his  blood  was  Scotch-Irish,  with  infu 
sion  of  Dutch  through  the  Fulkersons,  of  Huguenot  through 
the  Daltons  and  of  Welsh  through  the  Hughes. 

Immediately  after  the  Revolutionary  war  Anthony  Cald 
well  moved  from  Virginia  to  East  Tennessee.  He  had  been 
a  soldier  in  the  war,  and  according  to  family  records,  was  at 
the  siege  of  Yorktown,  a  youth  of  eighteen  years.  He  was 
a  ruling  elder  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  it  was  in  his 
dwelling  that  the  first  Sunday-school  in  Tennessee  was 
organized.  His  son  John,  an  enthusiastic  geologist,  became 
a  pioneer  in  making  known  and  exploiting  the  mineral  re 
sources  of  East  Tennessee.  He  was  not  college-bred,  but 
was  an  earnest  seeker  after  useful  information  and  took 
especial  interest  in  mineralogical  researches.  He  was  the 

(7) 


8 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


first  to  develop  the  copper  mines  in  Polk  County,  and  began 
his  operations  by  petitioning  the  legislature  and  obtaining  the 
passage  of  a  law  whereby  he  leased  a  section  of  school  land 
near  Ducktown.  In  the  spring  of  1850  he  began  to  mine 
in  the  woods.  For  the  first  few  years  the  ore  was  carried 
out  of  the  mountains  on  the  backs  of  mules.  In  1853  he 
built  a  wagon  road  at  a  cost  of  $22,000.  Up  to  this  time 
only  two  shafts  had  been  sunk.  In  1855  fourteen  shafts 
had  been  sunk,  and  more  than  $1,000,000  worth  of  ore  had 
been  shipped  to  the  North.  The  activities  of  this  remark 
able  man  were  widely  varied.  In  the  chapter,  "Civil  War 
Reminiscences,"  is  to  be  found  additional  insight  into  this 
grandfather's  life  and  character.  He  was  the  first  volun 
teer  of  his  county,  Jefferson,  to  enlist  in  the  war  of  1812; 
and  throughout  his  life  he  faithfully  supported  the  Union 
of  the  States.  Under  Andrew  Johnson's  presidency  he 
was  Pension  Agent  at  Knoxville. 

The  father,  Alfred  Caldwell  (1829-1886),  was  one  of  the 
prominent  lawyers  of  East  Tennessee.  He  taught  school 
to  earn  money  to  enable  him  to  take  a  college  course.  He 
was  graduated  at  Maryville  College,  whose  junior  and  senior 
classes  he  took  in  one  year.  His  law  studies,  pursued  at 
Lebanon,  were  completed  in  1854.  With  Milton  P.  Jar- 
nagin  he  entered  upon  the  practice  of  law  at  Athens,  and 
rose  rapidly  to  success  and  distinction.  The  same  year  he 
married  at  Rose  Hill,  in  Lee  County,  Virginia,  Jane  Dalton, 
the  daughter  of  Dr.  Joshua  Ewing,  a  fine  type  of  the  coun 
try  doctor  of  cultivated  tastes  and  comfortable  circum 
stances.  In  1859  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Tennes 
see  General  Assembly  from  McMinn  County,  and  was  an 
influential  legislator.  Though  ardently  attached  to  the 
Union  and  opposed  to  secession,  when  the  State  decided  to 
secede,  he  espoused  the  Southern  side.  In  1863  ne  entered 
the  ranks  and  fought  until  captured,  remaining  in  prison 
until  the  close  of  hostilities.  After  the  war  he  moved  to 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


Knoxville,  where  his  talents  and  qualities  at  once  gave  him 
high  rank  at  the  bar  and  in  politics.  In  1872  he  was  a 
candidate  for  Congress,  but  dissensions  in  Democratic  ranks 
wrought  his  defeat.  In  1878  he  was  the  East  Tennessee 
candidate  for  the  Democratic  nomination  for  Governor,  and 
lost  it  by  only  a  few  votes.  In  a  bar  that  numbered  among 
its  leaders  John  Baxter,  T.  A.  R.  Nelson,  William  H.  Sneed 
and  Horace  Maynard,  he  took  a  prominent  position.  Borne 
down  by  disease,  in  1882  he  gave  up  active  practice  and 
retired  to  his  farm  near  Strawberry  Plains,  his  boyhood 
home.  He  lived  and  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Presby 
terian  Church. 

While  on  the  Ewing  side  there  were  not  so  many  ruling 
elders  and  ministers  as  the  Caldwell  clan  furnished  to  the 
Presbyterian  faith,  still  the  representation  was  noteworthy. 
The  great-grandfather,  Samuel  Ewing,  was  the  founder  and 
supporter  of  churches.  He  likewise  served  his  State  effi 
ciently  in  office.  For  fifteen  years  he  was  sheriff  of  his 
county,  dying  in  office  in  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age.  He 
also  served  two  terms  in  the  Virginia  legislature.  Of  his 
maternal  grandfather's  piety  he  thus  speaks  in  the  paper, 
"Calhoun  the  Statesman":  "Looking  back  I  see  my 
Virginia  grandfather,  a  life-long  slaveholder,  fifty  years  an 
elder  of  the  church,  the  supporter  of  a  whole  community, 
and  I  am  sure  that  in  a  better  world  than  this  he  enjoys 
the  richest  rewards  that  wait  on  saintly  living  and  doing." 
One  of  the  maternal  uncles,  Rev.  C.  T.  Ewing,  was  a  Pres 
byterian  minister,  and  it  was  at  his  home  in  Hawkins 
County  that  the  mother  died  while  on  a  visit  in  1888. 

Heredity  is  justly  reckoned  a  potent  influence  in  shaping 
human  life.  Certainly  Joshua  W.  Caldwell  had  a  good 
start  in  his  forbears;  and  in  reading  his  literary  remains 
and  speeches,  one  will  constantly  revert  to  the  ancestry 
from  which  he  sprung,  and  there  find  the  origin  of  views 
he  tenaciously  held  and  vigorously  advocated. 


IO  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


BOYHOOD    AND    EDUCATION. 


In  the  delightful  and  frankly  personal  chapter,  "Civil 
War  Reminiscences/'  will  be  found  full  and  interesting 
details  of  Mr.  Caldwell's  earliest  remembered  years. 
Further  than  an  insight  into  his  own  life  and  its  environ 
ment,  it  is  valuable  for  the  glimpses  it  gives  of  the  suffer 
ings  and  horrors  of  the  civil  war.  When,  immediately 
after  the  war  closed,  the  father  moved  to  Knoxville,  the 
son  was  entered  at  the  Hampden  Sidney  Academy,  John  K. 
Payne,  principal,  who  was  just  from  Yale  College,  being 
a  member  of  the  class  of  1865.  When  the  next  year 
East  Tennessee  University,  now  the  University  of  Ten 
nessee,  was  opened,  the  president,  Dr.  Thomas  W.  Humes, 
persuaded  Professor  Payne  to  bring  his  boys  into  the  pre 
paratory  department  of  the  University.  In  this  way  teacher 
and  pupil  became  identified  with  the  institution  with  which 
their  names  are  imperishably  associated. 

The  traditions  and  memories  that  linger  of  his  boyhood 
are  that  he  was  a  studious  boy,  who  preferred  to  revel  in 
the  pages  of  a  book  to  joining  in  the  boisterous  games  of  the 
playground.  While  he  was  a  good  student  and  loved  to 
read,  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  of  him  as  averse  to  pranks  or 
as  failing  to  participate  in  them.  Evidence  is  at  hand  to  de 
note  that  good  red  blood  flowed  in  his  veins  and  that  in  his 
school  days  he  illustrated  faithfully  that  distinctive  genus, 
the  American  boy.  Thirty  years  afterwards  a  cousin  related 
how  he  used  to  pile  up,  outside  of  her  door,  apples  by  the 
bushel  to  watch  her  surprise  when  she  would  discover  it 
thus  barricaded;  and  how,  a  mere  urchin,  he  would  set  up 
buckets  and  tubs  in  his  grandfather's  back  yard  on  an  in 
clined  plane  and  then  would  shove  them  to  see  them  roll 
down  with  a  mighty  rattling  against  the  fence.  Later  in 
life,  when  he  had  become  fourteen  years  old,  the  records  of 
the  Chi  Delta  Literary  Society  of  East  Tennessee  Univer- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  II 


sity  show  that  he  was  repeatedly  "fined  ten  cents  for  dis 
orderly  conduct/'  When  it  is  noted  that  he  was  always 
thus  punished  conjointly  with  such  fellow  students  and  com 
panions  as  James  Maynard,  Frank  C.  Bearden,  and  David 
H.  Ludlow,  it  is  manifest  that  the  bubbling  over  of  youth 
ful  spirits  must  have  brought  on  the  penalties  inflicted. 

Young  Caldwell  won  recognition  immediately  in  the 
society  not  only  as  an  attractive  speaker,  but  as  a  forceful 
debater.  Fellow  students  recall  his  frequent  successes  in 
debate  while  in  college.  A  study  of  the  records  of  the  Chi 
Delta  Literary  Society  will  reveal  his  liking  for  this  important 
adjunct  of  college  life.  On  January  21,  1870,  he  was  ad 
mitted  to  membership,  not  yet  having  reached  the  age  of 
fourteen  years.  The  same  night  he  was  assigned  to  debate 
the  question:  "Is  Republicanism  Increasing  in  Europe?" 
With  S.  A.  Craig  he  espoused  the  affirmative  side,  while  the 
negative  found  advocates  in  Frank  C.  Bearden  and  Alfred 
N.  Jackson.  He  lost,  but  the  then  recording  secretary, 
T.  C.  Karns,  placed  this  in  the  minutes:  "Mr.  Caldwell 
delivered  a  pointed  and  able  speech,  well  worthy  the  imita 
tion  of  all  new  members,  and  some  older  ones,  too/' 

The  records  of  the  society,  for  the  five  following  years, 
until  his  graduation,  show  how  active  and  efficient  was  his 
work.  He  filled  all  the  offices  from  member  of  the  vigi 
lance  committee  for  "Grammar  School"  to  the  presidency. 
Whenever  the  society's  library  was  to  be  looked  after,  he 
was  always  named,  whether  it  was  to  recover  books  taken 
from  the  society  during  the  war,  or  to  get  up  a  public  en 
tertainment  to  raise  funds  to  replenish  the  library.  When 
ever  he  was  made  editor  of  "The  Crescent,"  the  society's 
organ,  the  record  uniformily  is  that  "its  reading  was  re 
ceived  with  great  applause."  He  took  part  in  one  discus 
sion  described  as  "a  heavy  debate."  This  was  about  the 
changing  of  the  time  for  the  society's  meetings  from  Satur 
day  morning  to  Friday  night,  according  to  the  time  honored 


12  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


practice.  The  faculty  had  ordered  the  meetings  for  Sat 
urday  mornings  because  of  the  disorders  frequent  at  the 
night  sessions  and  due  to  "non-resident  visitors  from  the 
city."  After  the  "heavy  debate"  and  with  assurances  that 
the  disturbances  would  not  be  repeated,  Friday  night  ses 
sions  were  resumed.  When  in  March,  1875,  the  first  issue 
of  the  college  publication,  "The  University  Monthly," 
appeared,  one  of  the  two  editors  representing  the  Chi  Delta 
Society  was  J.  W.  Caldwell. 

On  June  16,  1875,  he  was  graduated  from  East  Ten 
nessee  University  Bachelor  of  Arts.  On  that  day  he  de 
livered  an  oration  on  the  subject:  "Tendencies  of  Modern 
Thought."  The  Knoxville  Press  and  Herald  says  of  it: 
"Caldwell  evinced  a  power  of  thought  and  oratorical  abil 
ity  of  high  order."  In  1895  the  University  conferred  on 
him  the  M.  A.  degree  in  course. 

In  estimating  the  formative  influences  in  Mr.  Caldwell's 
life,  large  account  is  to  be  taken  of  the  professors  under 
whom  he  studied.  As  President  of  the  University  Dr. 
Humes  had  gathered  about  him  enthusiastic  young  men, 
fixed  in  the  scholarly  habit  and  full  of  the  scholarly  spirit. 
The  members  of  the  faculty  were  few,  and  the  personal  ele 
ment  played  a  large  part  in  college  life.  To  mention  the 
names  of  his  professors  is  to  indicate  their  quality  and 
qualifications.  They  were  in  Latin  and  Greek,  Frederic 
D.  Allen  and  Morton  W.  Easton;  in  English,  R.  L.  Kirk- 
pat  rick;  in  Mathematics,  John  K.  Payne;  in  Chemistry, 
Wilbur  O.  Atwater  and  Beverly  S.  Burton.  They  repre 
sented  the  learning  of  the  best  institutions  of  New  England 
and  of  Germany.  Their  love  for  all  good  learning  was  in 
fectious.  Of  these,  Frederic  D.  Allen,  whose  fame  as  a 
classical  scholar  became  world-wide,  exercised  the  greatest 
influence  upon  him.  In  private  conversations  referring  to 
his  college  days,  he  was  heard  more  frequently  to  mention 
Professor  Allen's  name  than  that  of  any  other  of  his  precep- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  13 

tors.  For  Professor  Easton  he  had  also  a  very  high  regard. 
The  indelible  influence  of  these  instructors  was  evident  in 
his  writings  in  the  numerous  classical  references  so  happily 
employed.  He  had  a  remarkable  mastery  of  Greek  mythol 
ogy,  as  was  repeatedly  exhibited  in  the  metrical  chronicles 
of  the  Irving  Club.  This  familiarity  with  classical  lore  is 
strikingly  shown  in  the  Chronicle  of  1907,  published  in  this 
volume.  His  professor  of  English,  R.  L.  Kirkpatrick,  pro 
foundly  impressed  him  for  versatility  of  learning,  delicacy 
of  taste  and  beauty  of  character.  His  tastes  did  not  incline 
toward  mathematics  and  natural  sciences,  and  he  studied 
them  only  as  parts  of  the  curriculum;  but  he  spoke  appre 
ciatively  of  the  professors  who  taught  these  branches. 


STUDY  AND    PRACTICE   OF   LAW. 


After  graduation  Mr.  Caldwell  began  the  study  of  law 
in  the  office  of  his  father.  He  was  admitted  to  the  bar 
April  30,  1877,  his  license  being  signed  by  Judges  M.  L. 
Hall  and  D.  K.  Young,  respectively  criminal  and  circuit 
judges  sitting  in  Knox  County.  Next  to  his  father,  it  is 
probable  that  John  Baxter  was  a  guide  and  an  inspiration 
to  him.  One  entering  his  office,  in  the  Deaderick  build 
ing,  was  almost  certain  to  be  attracted  by  a  large  picture 
of  Judge  Baxter  hanging  on  the  wall.  When  that  eminent 
jurist  died  in  1886,  he  had  no  more  sincere  mourner  than 
Mr.  Caldwell,  who  prepared  the  resolutions  adopted  by 
the  Knoxville  bar,  and  in  the  course  of  a  speech  before 
the  bar  assembled  to  honor  his  memory,  used  these  words: 

"I  wish  to  offer  my  humble  tribute  of  respect  to  the  memory 
of  Judge  Baxter.  I  can  not  claim  to  have  known  him  so  long  nor 
so  intimately  as  many  in  this  assemblage,  but  I  gratefully  ac 
knowledge  myself  his  debtor  for  unvarying  kindness  and  for  a 
friendship  which  did  not  altogether  regard  the  disparities  of  age 
and  position.  I  have  known  him  from  my  childhood  and  always 
as  a  leader  in  this  community  and  in  his  great  profession.  The 


14  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

sentiment  of  admiration  and  respect  for  him  with  which  I  entered 
upon  the  active  duties  of  our  vocation  was  strengthened  and  con 
firmed  by  experience." 

Mr.  Caldwell's  thirty  years  of  general  legal  practice 
comprehended  eight  years  of  service  as  City  Attorney 
of  Knoxville  and  ten  years  as  Referee  in  Bankruptcy,  in 
both  of  which  offices  his  service  was  conspicuously  faith 
ful  and  efficient.  During  all  these  years  he  continued  a 
general  civil  practice,  preferring  Chancery  and  Appeals. 
He  chose  to  escape  the  strife  and  turmoil  attendant  upon 
jury  trials  and  rigidly  refrained  from  criminal  practice. 

His  natural  aversion  to  criminal  cases  and  clients 
very  early  received  a  lasting  impetus  in  an  episode  occur 
ring  when  he  and  T.  A.  R.  Nelson,  then  both  young  law 
yers,  were  assigned  by  the  Court  to  defend  Bob  Shrews 
bury,  an  impecunious  prisoner,  on  a  charge  of  murder  of 
a  friendless  tramp  near  Strawberry  Plains.  In  discharge 
of  this  onerous  duty  they  retired,  in  company  with  their 
client,  about  their  own  age,  to  the  consultation  room  of 
the  Court  House,  to  acquaint  themselves  with  his  case, 
character  and  defense.  These  were  exposed  to  their  con 
fidence  and  curiosity  by  Bob's  proposal  in  all  seriousness 
to  his  new-found  counsel  that  they  should  manifest  their 
fidelity  and  discharge  their  professional  duty  to  do  the 
best  they  could  for  him  by  forthwith  undressing,  exchang 
ing  their  clothes  with  him,  and  remaining  in  the  room 
while  he  walked  out  past  the  sheriff  incognito  and  made 
good  his  escape.  Their  services  for  Shrewsbury  ended 
that  day.  Caldwell  betook  himself  to  the  Chancery  bar, 
and  Nelson  became  State's  Attorney  and  Judge  of  the 
Criminal  Court.  Both  became  better  acquainted  by  the 
episode  with  the  shifts  and  shams  of  criminals. 

In  his  long  service  as  City  Attorney  he  acquired  great 
familiarity  with  the  law  of  municipal  corporations,  and  his 
talents  shone  with  special  lustre  in  two  cases  of  great 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  15 

local  and  personal  interest,  and  a  third  that  was  State 
wide  in  its  results. 

The  first,  styled  Railroad  v.  Knoxville,  98  Tenn.,  i,  in 
volved  a  quarter-million  municipal  subsidy  to  the  Cumber 
land  Gap  Railroad,  promoted  by  Mr.  Alex.  A.  Arthur  in 
the  boom-days  of  1887,  and  resulted  in  defeat  of  the  stock 
subscription  by  a  majority  of  one  on  the  second  hearing 
in  the  State  Supreme  Court. 

Knoxville  v.  Africa,  77  Fed.  Rep.,  501,  was  the  mislead 
ing  title  of  a  complex  three-cornered  litigation  between 
another  Knoxville  promoter,  Col.  C.  C.  Howell,  and  the 
now  wo  rid- renowned  Wm.  G.  McAdoo,  representing  rival 
street  car  companies,  and  the  city,  in  strenuous  contest 
over  street  franchises,  in  which  McAdoo  was  repulsed 
from  his  native  city.  He  thereupon  moved  upon  New 
York,  and  has  captured  it  by  completing  and  opening  the 
great  Hudson  River  tunnels  to  travel  and  traffic.  This 
case,  ultimately  decided  by  the  Federal  Court  of  Appeals, 
settled  important  principles  as  to  the  specific  character  of 
street  franchises  and  the  invalidity  of  grants  thereof  in 
general  terms. 

The  urban  population  of  Tennessee  owes  Caldwell's 
name  lasting  gratitude  for  the  service  he  rendered  to  civi 
lization  in  the  great  case  of  Arnold  v.  Knoxville,  115  Tenn., 
195,  wherein  the  State  Supreme  Court  was  persuaded  to 
overrule  a  leading  case  which  had  for  a  generation  clogged 
the  wheels  of  progress  in  Tennessee,  and  to  open  to 
municipal  improvements,  on  local  pressure,  the  door  of 
special  assessments — the  talisman  of  good  streets. 

He  was  often  appointed  to  serve  as  special  Master  in 
the  Federal  Court  in  equity  cases  of  grave  import.  A 
notable  instance  was  his  appointment  to  sell  the  East 
Tennessee,  Virginia  &  Georgia  Railway  in  1894.  It  was 
rare  indeed  that  his  report  did  not  meet  judicial  approval. 
In  a  recent  emergency,  when  a  challenge  to  the  array  of 


l6  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

jurors  had  been  allowed  and  the  marshal  held  incompe 
tent  for  the  service,  Judge  Sanford  astonished  Mr.  Cald- 
well  by  appointing  him  special  marshal  to  summon  a  panel 
of  jurors  for  the  case  from  the  bystanders.  The  supply 
of  eligibles  in  the  court-room  being  soon  exhausted,  the 
Judge  directed  him  to  go  down  on  the  street  and  send  up 
enough  men  to  make  out  the  panel.  With  a  quizzical 
smile  he  took  his  hat  and  started  on  his  extraordinary  ser 
vice — as  foreign  to  his  habits  and  nature  as  could  be  im 
agined.  One  by  one  men  came  straggling  in,  and  at  last 
the  special  officer  appeared  with  this  oral  return,  thus  ad 
dressing  the  Court:  "I  have  scoured  the  streets  and 
alleys  in  the  vicinity,  and  by  dint  of  very  positive  assertion 
I  have  succeeded  in  persuading  eight  men  that  I  had  the 
Court's  authority  to  demand  their  services  as  jurors. 
But  this  I  have  accomplished  at  no  little  personal  peril 
from  the  dire  threats  of  these  business  men;  and  I  ask 
your  Honor  to  excuse  as  many  of  them  as  you  can,  and 
give  me  personal  protection  against  the  others." 

This  little  sally  was  but  a  casual  coup,  illustrating  the 
delicate  humor  constantly  pervading  his  conversation,  so 
that  by  it  and  the  sparkling  wit  illuminating  his  speeches 
at  the  bar  he  usually  held  his  auditors,  while  he  convinced 
them  by  reason  and  authority. 

His  standards  of  professional  conduct  were  high  and 
his  deportment  at  the  bar  exemplary.  He  prepared  his 
cases  with  painstaking  fidelity  and  gave  his  client's  cause 
the  best  of  his  skill  and  ability.  His  professional  life  is 
truly  epitomized  in  a  tribute  prepared  by  Judge  E.  T. 
Sanford,  of  the  United  States  District  Court,  and  read  be 
fore  a  memorial  meeting  of  the  Knoxville  bar  a  few  days 
subsequent  to  his  death.  In  a  fittingly  exhaustive  and 
thoroughly  sympathetic  sketch,  Judge  Sanford  said: 

"As  a  lawyer  his  life  illustrated  in  its  every  act  and  deed  the 
highest  professional  ideals;    in  the  strength  of  his  intellect,  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  Ij 

breadth  of  his  learning  and  the  eloquence  through  which  they 
found  expression;  in  an  unfailing  courtesy  to  his  associates  of 
the  bar,  which  attached  them  to  him  in  the  closest  bonds  of  per 
sonal  friendship;  and  in  a  scrupulous  integrity  and  honorable 
dealing  alike  with  his  fellow  lawyers  and  with  the  courts,  which 
leaves  the  memory  of  his  name  as  the  synonym  of  that  which 
is  true,  honorable  and  of  good  report  in  professional  life." 

His  devotion  to  his  great  profession  is  further  shown 
by  active  participation  in  the  annual  meetings  of  the  Ten 
nessee  Bar  Association,  of  which  he  became  a  member  in 
1891.  In  August,  1894,  he  read  a  carefully  prepared  paper 
before  that  body  on  " Constitution-Making  in  Tennessee— 
A  Historical  Sketch."  A  recognized  authority  on  consti 
tutional  government,  he  was  appointed  on  the  committee 
to  agitate  the  calling  of  a  new  constitutional  convention. 
In  1895  he  was  made  chairman  of  the  committee  on  juris 
prudence  and  law  reform,  and  submitted  an  exhaustive 
report  the  following  year.  In  the  1895  meeting  he  read  a 
biographical  sketch  of  Hugh  Lawson  White,  the  substance 
of  which  appears  in  his  "Bench  and  Bar  of  Tennessee." 

Caldwell,  like  Blackstone,  experienced  in  his  mind  the 
strenuous  contest  for  supremacy  between  literature  and 
law,  and  with  his  great  exemplar  he  could  say  to  the  muse: 

As,  by  some  tyrant's  stern  command, 
A  wretch  forsakes  his  native  land, 
In  foreign  climes  condemn'd  to  roam 
An  endless  exile  from  his  home; 
Pensive  he  treads  the  destin'd  way, 
And  dreads  to  go,  nor  dares  to  stay, 
'Till  on  some  neighb'ring  mountain's  brow 
He  stops,  and  turns  his  eyes  below, 
There,  melting  at  the  well-known  view, 
Drops  a  last  tear,  and  bids  adieu; 
So  I,  thus  doom'd  from  thee  to  part, 
Gay  Queen  of  Fancy  and  of  Art, 
Reluctant  move,  with  doubtful  mind, 
Oft  stop,  and  often  look  behind. 


l8  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

Then  welcome  business,  welcome  strife, 
Welcome  the  cares,  the  thorns  of  life; 
The  visage  wan,  the  pore-blind  fight, 
The  toil  by  day,  the  lamp  at  night, 
The  tedious  forms,  the  solemn  prate, 
The  pert  dispute,  the  dull  debate, 
The  drowsy  Bench,  the  babbling  hall, 
For  thee,  fair  Justice,  welcome  all! 

Indeed  it  is  to  be  doubted  if  he  ever  did  prefer  the  law 
to  letters;  and  if  literature  had  offered  an  equal  living  with 
the  law  he  would  have  probably  given  his  life  to  it  as  a 
profession.  For,  while  he  served  the  law  as  a  jealous 
mistress,  long  and  faithfully,  and  ever  to  her  honor,  his 
affections  and  his  best  endeavors  were  given  not  to  her, 
but  to  his  true  love,  belles-lettres,  which  always  held  his 
heart. 


POLITICS. 


In  politics  Mr.  Caldwell  was  a  democrat  after  the  school 
of  Thomas  Jefferson.  He  gave  unwavering  allegiance  to 
the  Democratic  party,  and  yet  he  did  not  seek  or  wish  pub 
lic  office.  He  made  occasional  speeches  in  furtherance  of 
the  interests  of  candidates,  and  consented,  at  intervals,  to 
serve  the  party  in  purely  honorary  or  non- remunerative 
positions.  The  ordinary  methods  of  office-seekers  and  the 
undignified  scrambles  after  office  were  repugnant  to  his 
tastes  and  foreign  to  his  practices.  Yet  it  was  a  current 
remark  that  there  was  no  office  within  the  gift  of  the  people 
which  he  would  not  have  adorned. 

In  September,  1884,  he  made  a  speech  before  the  Knox- 
ville  Working  Men's  Club  in  aid  of  the  Democratic  nom 
inees.  At  the  outset  he  said:  "  I  would  have  you  under 
stand  that  I  am  not  a  politician  in  fact  nor  in  expectancy." 
While  he  repudiated  the  idea  of  being  a  politician,  he  early 
imbibed  the  spirit  of  his  native  section  and  manifested 
interest  in  politics  and  political  discussions.  In  a  speech 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  19 

made  in  1888,  as  Democratic  elector  of  the  Second  Congres 
sional  District,  he  declared  that  just  twenty  years  before 
that  time  ( 1868)  he  had  heard  his  first  Democratic  speech 
from  the  lips  of  Capt.  W.  L.  Ledgerwood.  In  the  Democratic 
Congressional  Convention  that  met  in  early  September  of 
that  year,  he  was  unanimously  nominated  to  be  elector. 
For  a  month  he  held  the  position,  and  already  had  made 
some  speeches  in  the  district  with  good  effect;  but  finding 
private  and  business  demands  pressing,  he  asked  to  be 
relieved.  The  Congressional  committee  found  the  reasons 
good  and  sufficient,  and  released  him  with  regret. 

In  1880  Mr.  Caldwell  had  been  tried  in  a  similar  posi 
tion,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  party  men.  He  was  chosen 
Democratic  sub-elector  for  Knox  County.  His  first  speech 
was  made  in  the  Eleventh  District.  The  Knoxville  Tribune 
said: 

"He  had  a  good  crowd  which  listened  with  marked  attention 
to  the  gifted  young  speaker.  He  is  reported  to  have  made  a 
splendid  speech,  and  did  the  cause  which  he  so  ably  represented 
a  vast  deal  of  good.  The  choice  of  Mr.  Caldwell  for  the  county 
was  certainly  a  very  happy  one." 

In  the  Knoxville  Tribune  is  to  be  found  the  synopsis  of 
his  most  elaborate  speech  of  that  campaign.  In  national 
politics  Hancock  and  English  were  the  Democratic  presiden 
tial  nominees,  while  Garfield  and  Arthur  headed  the  Repub 
lican  national  ticket.  In  Tennessee  politicians  were  wrest 
ling  with  the  settlement  of  the  State  debt.  The  speech  was 
made  at  Mount  Olive  Church,  south  of  the  Tennessee  River. 
It  consumed  one  hour  and  a  half,  and  throughout  held 
closely  the  attention  of  the  audience.  Mr.  Caldwell  main 
tained  that  the  Democratic  party  was  the  party  of  the  con 
stitution,  that  the  Republican  party  was  one  of  centraliza 
tion,  virtually  standing  for  kingly  power.  Hamilton,  its 
founder,  had  declared  that  he  believed  in  the  choosing  of 
presidents  for  life.  Garfield  had  said  that  Hamilton  was 


2O  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

the  greatest  man  the  country  had  produced.  It  followed 
that  Garfield  must  have  endorsed  the  sentiments  of  Hamil 
ton,  and  was,  therefore,  in  favor  of  monarchical  govern 
ment. 

He  then  cited  the  policies  of  the  Republican  party,  its 
interference  with  a  free  ballot  by  placing  soldiers  at  the 
polls;  its  favoring  of  railroad  combinations  and  monopolies; 
its  connection  with  great  land  swindles  and  other  acts  that 
should  consign  it  to  oblivion.  He  alluded  to  Republican 
bookkeeping,  and  the  robberies  of  many  millions  of  dollars; 
spoke  of  the  bloody  shirt  policy  and  declared  it  contempt 
ible.  He  congratulated  the  Republicans  of  Tennessee  upon 
carrying  out  their  idea  of  social  equality  by  placing  a  negro 
on  the  State  electoral  ticket,  and  of  Knox  County  in  making 
one  a  deputy  sheriff.  He  advocated  a  settlement  of  the 
State  debt  upon  the  best  terms  possible,  and  paid  compli 
ments  to  the  county's  legislative  ticket,  saying  that  it  was 
the  best  that  had  been  presented  to  the  people  by  any 
party  since  the  war.  Its  personnel  was  W.  A.  Henderson 
for  senator,  T.  R.  Cornick,  Jr.,  for  floater,  Sam  McKinney 
for  representative. 

In  1894  he  was  made  temporary  chairman  of  the  Demo 
cratic  State  convention.  Speaking  of  his  selection  the 
Nashville  American  said: 

"Besides  being  a  studious  and  thorough  lawyer,  he  finds  time 
for  recreation  in  purely  literary  work,  and  is  an  esteemed  contrib 
utor  to  many  of  the  leading  magazines  of  the  country.  He  is  a 
fluent  writer  of  chaste  English.  As  a  speaker  he  is  a  power,  and 
his  oratory  never  appeals  in  vain  for  the  right.  In  the  very  prime 
of  life  he  has  well  earned  the  honor  bestowed  upon  him  by  the 
committee,  and  will  wear  it  gracefully  and  with  satisfaction  to  all 
who  come  under  the  sound  of  his  voice.  Whether  as  lawyer  or 
politician  he  is  a  man  one  can  not  know  too  well." 

In  its  summary  of  the  work  of  the  convention,  the 
Chattanooga  News  said: 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  21 

"East  Tennessee  had  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  tact  and  abil 
ity  displayed  by  Joshua  W.  Caldwell  as  temporary  chairman. 
The  unanimous  finding  of  the  convention  was  that  he  acquitted 
himself  with  distinguished  honor.  Indeed,  despite  the  high  name 
which  General  Wright  holds  worthily  as  a  lawyer  and  statesman, 
it  was  conceded  that  as  permanent  presiding  officer  of  the  conven 
tion  he  gained  nothing  by  comparison  with  his  immediate  prede 
cessor  in  the  chair." 

Tennessee  suffered  distinct  loss  in  that  such  a  man  was 
not  pressed  into  her  service  in  high  official  position.  No 
one  of  her  sons  was  better  fitted.  He  would  have  made  a 
worthy  Senator.  The  State  would  have  been  especially  hon 
ored  by  any  service  he  would  have  been  permitted  to  render 
in  that  august  body,  the  United  States  Senate.  He  had  the 
capacity  to  consider  in  a  comprehensive  way  important 
questions  of  public  policy.  He  had  the  solid  culture  and  the 
gifts  of  speech  which  would  have  commended  to  colleagues 
his  views  and  utterances.  He  would  have  made  a  noble  Gov 
ernor.  He  knew  so  intimately  the  history  of  State  policies 
and  administrations,  he  kept  himself  so  well  informed  on 
vital  questions  of  the  hour,  he  lived  upon  such  an  exalted 
plane  of  thought  and  life,  that  the  State  would  have  reaped 
decided  benefit  from  his  accurate  knowledge  and  broad 
survey  of  institutions,  policies  and  needs. 

EDUCATION   AND  THE   UNIVERSITY. 

As  a  cultural  force  in  the  State  and  the  community  he 
so  long  honored,  it  is  safe  to  say  that,  of  individuals,  he 
was  among  its  foremost  representatives.  It  was  as  presi 
dent  of  the  Alumni  Association  of  the  University  of  Ten 
nessee,  as  trustee  of  the  same  institution,  as  trustee  of  the 
Lawson  McGhee  library,  as  trustee  of  the  Tennessee  Deaf 
and  Dumb  Asylum,  and  as  president  of  the  Irving  Club, 
that  he  best  illustrated  and  exercised  this  influence.  In 
view  of  his  activity  in  the  practice  of  law,  it  is  remarkable 


22  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

that  he  accomplished  so  much  in  the  cultural  field,  how 
ever  congenial  to  his  tastes.  It  was  this  universality  and 
this  activity  that  caused  Gov.  Peter  Turney,  in  1895,  to 
invite  him  to  become  the  State's  Superintendent  of  Educa 
tion,  an  office  he  declined  without  hesitation.  However, 
he  became  connected  with  the  Turney  administration, 
serving  (1895-97)  as  Judge  Advocate  General  on  the  Gov 
ernor's  staff.  Likewise,  when  in  1904  there  was  a  vacancy 
in  the  presidency  of  the  University  of  Tennessee,  he  was 
regarded  as  pre-eminently  fitted  for  the  place.  His  love 
for  his  alma  mater  and  for  his  State  caused  him  to  delib 
erate  long  before  coming  to  a  decision.  When  he  with 
drew  his  name  from  consideration,  after  carefully  weigh 
ing  the  matter,  and  when  the  distinction  was  all  but  con 
ferred  by  formal  election,  many  felt  that  he  turned  aside 
from  a  work  that  would  have  proved  thoroughly  congenial 
and  for  which  he  was  peculiarly  qualified. 

Apart  from  his  intellectual  gifts,  his  recognized  posi 
tion  in  literature  and  his  State-wide  reputation,  it  was  his 
tried  loyalty  to  his  alma  mater  and  his  intimate  familiarity 
with  her  workings  that  commended  his  fitness  for  the 
presidency.  The  steadfastness  of  the  one  and  the  thor 
oughness  of  the  other  are  matters  of  record  in  the  annals 
of  the  State  and  the  University.  Three  years  after  grad 
uation  he  was  made  President  of  the  Alumni  Society  of  the 
institution,  and  in  1879  was  his  own  successor.  After  a 
trial  of  rotation  in  office,  in  1894  he  was  again  made  presi 
dent  of  the  organization,  and  by  annual  successive  elec 
tions  was  retained  at  its  head  until  his  death.  Twice  he 
was  alumni  orator,  in  1882  and  1889.  The  subject  of  the 
first  oration  was  "  Lessons  from  the  Life  of  a  Great  Man," 
which  was  published  in  the  "Chi  Delta  Monthly  Cres 
cent."  Emerson  and  the  Transcendental  Movement  early 
engaged  his  thought  and  study,  had  a  distinct  influence 
upon  his  intellectual  life,  and  inspired  his  whole  nature  in 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  23 

this  oration.  The  subject  of  the  second  address  was 
"Americanisms,"  which,  reworked  and  modified,  appears 
in  this  volume  under  the  title,  "The  South  is  American." 

At  the  beginning  of  this  second  era  as  President  the 
practice  of  having  alumni  banquets  was  begun.  In  the 
University  of  Tennessee  "Record"  of  June,  1898,  he  pub 
lished  a  "History  of  the  Alumni  Association."  He  says: 
"Beginning  in  1894,  the  Association  has  had  an  annual 
banquet  at  commencement,  and  these  banquets  have  been 
very  inspiring,  and  have  done  much  to  quicken  interest  in 
the  affairs  of  the  Association  and  of  the  University."  It 
was  on  these  occasions  that  he  was  to  be  seen  in  his  hap 
piest  and  most  attractive  mood.  As  presiding  officer,  or 
toastmaster,  or  in  response  to  some  toast,  he  aroused  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  institution, 
stirred  within  them  a  deeper  love  of  alma  mater,  and 
interspersed  his  speeches  with  such  wit  and  humor  as  to 
put  the  banqueters  in  a  flow  of  gleeful  spirits.  The  bur 
den  of  nearly  all  his  speeches  on  these  occasions  was  the 
duty  of  the  alumni  to  the  University.  At  times  he  dwelt 
upon  the  relation  of  the  State  to  the  University,  and  the 
duty  it  owed  the  institution  in  adopting  towards  it  a  gen 
erous  policy.  Another  theme  dear  to  him  on  these  occa 
sions  was  "The  Riches  of  Scholarship." 

Whenever  the  University  demanded  his  services,  he 
responded  heartily.  Within  the  space  of  a  twelve-month 
the  call  was  thrice  repeated.  In  April,  1901,  he  was 
the  orator  of  University  Day,  and  delivered  an  address  on 
"The  Period  of  Andrew  Jackson."  In  September  follow 
ing,  upon  the  opening  of  the  University,  he  delivered  a 
memorial  address  on  President  William  McKinley.  The 
University  "Record,"  in  an  outline  of  the  address,  says: 
"Mr.  Caldwell  spoke  without  manuscript,  and  his  address 
was  considered  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  impressive 
ever  delivered  from  the  University  platform."  In  the 


24  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

April  following,  when  the  Ogden  party  visited  Knoxville 
and  the  University  of  Tennessee,  it  was  tendered  an  elab 
orate  banquet  at  the  Woman's  building.  Again  Mr.  Cald- 
well  was  in  demand  for  one  of  the  speeches  of  the  occasion. 

In  1896  he  was  made  trustee  of  the  University,  and 
soon  after  became  chairman  of  the  experiment  station 
committee  of  the  Board  of  Trustees.  His  election  was  in 
line  with  what  he  had  been  contending  for  in  many  meet 
ings  of  the  Alumni  Association.  He  argued  that  the  insti 
tution's  welfare  was  dependent,  in  large  measure,  upon 
the  management  and  active  interest  of  its  alumni.  Both 
in  the  faculty  and  in  the  Board  of  Trustees  he  pleaded  for 
a  larger  representation  of  its  graduates.  When  Dr.  Charles 
W.  Dabney,  one  year  after  his  installation  as  President, 
revolutionized  affairs  by  removing  all  but  one  member  of 
the  faculty,  a  protest  went  up  from  the  Alumni  Association. 
The  members  of  the  faculty  dropped  were  alumni  of  the 
institution.  Mr.  Caldwell  introduced  a  resolution  in  con 
demnation  of  the  policy  of  the  new  President,  which  was 
passed  unanimously.  It  is  believed  that  later  he  endorsed 
the  acts  of  the  new  President  as  necessary  for  the  reorgan 
ization  and  remodelling  of  the  institution.  As  the  Board 
of  Trustees  is  at  present  constituted,  the  policy  advocated 
finds  its  vindication.  If  few  alumni  are  represented  in 
the  faculty  of  the  University,  it  has  been  because  the 
graduates  have  not  turned  their  attention  to  post-graduate 
studies  and  preparation  for  advanced  instructional  work. 

Mr.  Caldwell's  devotion  to  the  University  was  not 
based  merely  upon  sentiment.  He  believed  in  the  institu 
tion  because  of  its  merits.  In  the  address  made  at  the 
Tennessee  Centennial,  in  1897,  speaking  on  "East  Ten 
nessee  in  State  History,"  he  made  a  plea  for  the  Univer 
sity  which,  through  the  years,  he  iterated  and  reiterated: 

"Of  the  University  of  Tennessee,!  desire  to  repeat  here  deliber 
ately  what  I  have  said  elsewhere,  that  a  few  years  ago  it  was  ex- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  25 

celled  among  Southern  institutions  only  by  the  University  of  Vir 
ginia,  and  now  I  say  it  is  excelled  by  none.  I  believe  that  the 
University  of  Tennessee,  in  the  quality  of  its  work,  is  superior  to 
any  other  university  or  college  in  the  Southern  States.  *  *  * 
May  we  not  hope  for  the  coming  of  a  time  when  encouragement, 
and  not  unkindness,  will  be  the  policy  of  Tennessee  toward  this 
splendid  institution  which  worthily  bears  her  own  name." 


THE    IRVING   CLUB. 

With  this  survey  of  his  enthusiasm  for  things  of  the 
mind,  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  the  organization  of  a 
literary  club,  composed  of  kindred  spirits,  would  con 
tribute  still  further  to  his  intellectual  growth  and  pleasure. 
Herein  is  to  be  found  the  genesis  of  the  Irving  Club. 

Belles-lettres  were  his  never  failing  source  of  pleasure, 
and  the  Irving  Club  was  the  joy  of  his  life.  After  his  fam 
ily  it  had  no  rival  in  his  affections — save  St.  John's  parish. 
It  had  its  origin  in  his  brain,  and  was  formed  at  a  meeting 
called  at  his  office  in  December,  1886.  He  was  its  only 
President  while  he  lived — annually  chosen  for  several  years, 
but  for  more  than  a  decade  holding  the  place  by  common 
consent. 

How  cordially  and  indisputably  his  confreres  of  the  Club 
yielded  to  him  the  primacy  was  fittingly  expressed  by  the 
venerable  Col.  James  Van  Deventer.  The  occasion  was 
the  celebration  of  the  tenth  anniversary  of  the  Club's  exist 
ence  and  the  presentation  of  a  gavel  made  of  wood  taken 
from  the  famous  Tabard  Inn.  Col.  Van  Deventer  said: 

"Mr.  President:  It  is  not  necessary  to  tell  you  that  we  cele 
brate  to-night  the  decennial  anniversary  of  the  Irving  Club. 
During  the  whole  period  of  the  club's  existence,  it  has  been  its 
exceeding  good  fortune  to  have  had  you  for  its  president.  But 
it  can  not  be  truthfully  said  of  you,  'Uneasy  lies  the  head  that 
wears  a  crown,' — for  during  your  official  reign  your  rule  has  been 
so  considerate,  so  good  in  all  things,  and  therefore  so  lightly  felt, 
that  neither  crown  nor  sceptre  nor  other  symbol  of  authority  has 
been  needed  to  promote  loyalty  and  to  keep  good  order. 


26  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

"Our  past  as  a  club  has  been  full  of  good  fellowship.  We 
have  come  to  our  stated  meetings  at  your  hospitable  home,  know 
ing  full  well  we  would  absorb  restfulness  of  spirit  with  the  air  we 
breathed;  and  our  labors  being  ended,  we  have  gone  hence  re 
freshed  by  the  companionship  we  have  enjoyed. 

"The  decade  just  closed  has  been  one  of  great  development 
for  the  club.  The  little  group  of  three  or  four  who  gathered  to 
gether  ten  years  ago  in  the  name  of  our  patron  author  to  form  a 
club  has  enlarged  its  circle,  has  expanded  into  an  influential  or 
ganization,  has  become  one  of  the  chief  literary  features  of  our 
city. 

"Vigor  has  come  to  us  with  expansion.  All  this,  sir,  and  more, 
we  owe  in  a  great  measure  to  you.  The  gentle  treatment  which 
is  so  suited  to  the  tender  stages  of  existence  may  not  be  always  so 
well  adapted  to  the  later  stages  of  maturity.  Having  to  deal  with 
such  intellectual  sons  of  Anak  as  Ingersoll,  Frazee,  Elmore,  San- 
ford,  Henneman,  Turner  and  others,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  in 
the  club  to  take  precautionary  measures  by  putting  in  your  hands 
an  instrument,  the  least  use  of  which  will  calm  turbulence  like 
pouring  oil  on  troubled  waters. 

"To  this  end,  I  have  the  honor,  sir,  in  the  name  and  behalf  of 
the  Irving  Club,  to  present  to  you  this  gavel  as  an  emblem  of  your 
rightful  authority,  and  ask  you  to  accept  it,  Mr.  President,  with 
the  affection  of  the  Irving  Club." 

For  twenty  years  the  Club's  meetings,  on  his  urgent 
invitation,  were  held  at  his  residence.  The  Monday  even 
ings  occurring  between  the  middle  of  September  and  the  first 
of  June  were  given  to  these  conventions,  and  he  has  re 
corded  in  one  of  his  choice  "Chronicles  of  the  Irving  Club," 
that  "in  more  than  nine  years  it  has  not  missed  a  single 
meeting."  Indeed,  so  attractive  were  these  literary  social 
synods  that  in  twenty  years  only  one  meeting  was  unat 
tended. 

Eight  o'clock  was  the  hour  of  assembly;  and  few  indeed 
were  the  occasions,  in  this  full  score  of  years,  when  Mr. 
Caldwell  was  not  present  to  welcome  these  chosen  friends 
in  person  to  his  hospitable  home. 

These  unrivalled  "Chronicles  of  the  Irving  Club,"  jest 
ingly  described  by  him  as  "the  most  trustworthy  and  im- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  2"J 

portant  contributions  to  contemporary  history,  adding 
largely  to  the  stock  of  accurate  public  information  and  con 
firming  the  deserved  reputation  of  the  author  for  unvary 
ing  truthfulness,"  were  introduced  by  "The  Making  of  the 
Irving  Club,"  a  Christmas  token  for  1889,  in  which  occur 
the  following  narrative  paragraphs: 

"The  members  were  accustomed,  during  the  first  year,  to 
write  upon  the  subjects  assigned  them,  much  more  than  in  later 
years.  It  has  been  demonstrated  that  it  is  best  for  the  leaders  to 
write.  But  the  club  has  constantly  recognized  the  fact  that  in 
formality  is  its  greatest  charm.  It  was,  from  the  beginning,  in 
tended  that  the  machinery  of  government  should  be  the  simplest, 
and  that  every  member  should  be  allowed  the  utmost  latitude  of 
opinion  and  expression.  It  was  believed  that  the  character  of  the 
membership  was  such  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  any  abuse 
of  privilege.  This  expectation  has  been  fulfilled  in  every  respect. 
The  discussions  have,  as  a  rule,  been  animated,  and  there  have 
always  been  marked  divergences  of  opinion,  but  the  history  of 
the  club  has  to  this  time  been  devoid  of  unpleasant  incident. 
Nothing  has  occurred  to  mar  the  pleasure  of  any  meeting,  or  to 
disturb  the  cordial  relations  of  the  members. 

"In  the  selection  of  subjects,  it  was  resolved  that  no  topic 
should  be  excluded  except  such  as  involved  the  discussion  of 
'partisan  politics  or  polemic  theology/ — a  felicitous  phrase  for 
which  we  are  indebted  to  Judge  Ingersoll,  and  one  for  which  he 
has  not  unnaturally  manifested  somewhat  frequently  a  decided 
partiality.  The  wisdom  of  the  limitation  thus  established  is 
obvious." 

At  Christmas,  1895,  appeared  his  first  "Epic  of  the 
Irving  Club,"  introduced  by  a  page  of  proem,  concluding 
thus:  "The  author  has  been  at  pains  to  indicate  by  appro 
priate  words  that  this  introduction  is  prose,  while  that 
which  follows  is  not."  And  thus  he  gives  an  epitome  of 
its  life: 

"'Tis  nine  years  now,  and  more,  agone, 
Since  TrvingV  work  was  well  begun. 
We've  traveled  much  and  traveled  far, 
Found  much  to  please,  done  nought  to  mar 
Our  fellowship  and  warm  affection, 


28  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

Nor  cause  unkindly  recollection. 

No  Utica  pent  our  way  confines, 

We  yield  to  few  restricting  lines; 

Theology  we  wisely  fear 

And  politics  we  come  not  near; 

But  these  alone  in  thought's  domain 

Can  e'er  restrict  us  or  restrain. 

We  have  not  sounded  lowest  deeps 

Nor  climbed,  perchance,  the  highest  peaks, 

Not  caring  much  to  be  profound, 

But  satisfied  on  middle  ground. 

And  if  we  have  not  gathered  store 

Of  dry  and  musty  pedant  lore, 

One  thing  there  is  that  makes  amends, 

We  have  become  the  best  of  friends." 

Although  in  this  epic  he  had  "invoked  the  frolic  Muse" 
for  personal  mention  of  members'  feats  and  frailties,  the 
following  verse  discloses  a  cordial  antipathy  he  felt  for  the 
modern  pronunciation  of  Latin: 

"I  would  our  scholars  all  exalt, 
But  find  with  some  a  single  fault. 
We  ne'er  can  yield  our  Cicero, 
Nor  e'er  our  Hercules  forego. 
In  Kikero  we'll  have  no  part, 
Nor  Herakles,  the  new  upstart. 
There  is  a  continental  way, 
The  fad  and  fangle  of  a  day, 
Of  speaking  Greek  and  Latin,  too, 
Which  sober  thought  must  sure  eschew." 

In  the  Eighth  Chronicle,  issued  in  May,  1897,  after  des 
canting  with  delightful  abandon  on  personal  traits  of  his 
fellow  members,  Caldwell  thus  summarizes  the  work  and 
aims  of  the  body: 

"The  club  continues  to  be  a  free  body  held  together  by  the 
bonds  of  cordial  friendship  and  of  a  desire  for  improvement.  It 
has  no  constitution,  almost  no  rules,  and  no  formalities. 

"Its  aim  is  the  culture  of  its  members  and  thereby  the  good 
of  the  community.  It  avoids  publicity,  believing  that  its  true 
policy  is  to  confine  its  direct  work  to  its  own  members.  It  has 
always  been  conservative.  It  is  not  reactionary,  but  it  is  not 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  29 

eager  to  receive  and  to  adopt  every  new  and  fantastic  theory,  nor 
to  ally  itself  with  every  movement  against  existing  things. 
There  is  no  propaganda  here.  It  is  not  a  dogma  of  the  club  that 
everything  that  is,  is  wrong,  and  only  new  things  are  right.  In 
matters  of  faith,  it  has  never  declared  orthodoxy  to  be  synony 
mous  with  error,  nor  all  heterodoxy  to  be  infallibly  right  or 
necessarily  wrong.  It  does  not  deny  the  possibility  of  improving 
orthodoxy,  nor  the  excellence  of  much  that  is  called  heterodox. 
Its  prevailing  tone  is  conservative  and  orthodox.  It  does  not  seek 
to  direct  its  members  in  these  matters,  but  each  is,  as  he  ought  to 
be,  his  own  untrammeled  master. 

"Without  being  indifferent  to  philosophy  or  opposed  to  pro 
gress,  it  has  not  yet  reached  the  point  where  it  considers  the  uni 
verse  as  the  smallest  subject  worthy  of  its  attention.  In  literature, 
it  is  at  once  conservative  and  liberal.  It  has  members  who 
think  that  literary  form,  art,  may  be  allowed  to  excuse  much  that 
others,  including  the  writer,  condemn.  There  are  members  who 
can  not  disconnect  any  art  entirely  from  morality,  and  in  that 
judgment  the  writer  positively  joins,  but  with  a  proper  spirit  of  lib 
erality  the  club  has  studied  every  phase  of  every  literature,  past 
and  present.  It  does  not  believe  that  the  relations  of  the  sexes 
must  necessarily  be  irregular  in  fiction  any  more  than  in  fact,  nor 
that  brutalism  is  the  only  subject  worthy  of  genius,  or  the  only 
one  which  affords  opportunity  for  the  highest  art. 

"As  to  poetry,  we  have  not  yet  reached  the  point  of  casting 
away  all  the  old  beliefs.  We  are  not  yet  persuaded  that  the  old 
metrical  forms  are  wholly  worthless,  dead  weights  and  clogs,  and 
that  a  two-foot  verse  followed  by  a  ten-foot  verse,  succeeded  by  a 
seven-foot  verse,  is  an  irresistible  demonstration  of  supreme 
poetic  genius. 

"There  are  still  members  of  the  club  who  persist  in  admiring 
Homer,  Shakespeare,  Dante,  Milton,  Chaucer,  and  so  abject  a 
slave  to  rhyme  and  meter  as  Robert  Burns,  even  in  an  age  illumi 
nated  and  glorified  by  the  transcendant  and  incomparable  genius 
of  Browning  and  Whitman.  It  may  be  that  in  the  better  future  of 
art  and  poetry,  whose  advent  is  so  enthusiastically  prophesied 
on  many  sides,  we  shall  reach  and  grasp  the  final  and  crowning 
conception  that  the  chief  end  of  poetry  is  obscurity,  displayed 
without  rhyme  or  meter,  but  we  are  not  yet  among  the  initiate 
who  confidently  promulgate  this  dogma. 

"It  may  be  that  we  are  confused  by  the  blinding  radiance  of 
the  multiplicity  of  new  lights  of  belief  and  of  criticism  that  burst 
upon  us  from  many  quarters  as  the  century  draws  to  a  close;  but 
holding  our  minds  ever  open  to  'new  influxes  of  light  and  power/ 


3°  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

and  doing  our  best  in  the  places  in  which  our  duty  falls,  we  may 
hope  that  in  the  end  we  too  may  see  the  truth  in  its  glory  and 
beauty,  or  if  not,  we  must  be  content  to  have  done  our  best, 
without  envy  of  our  brothers  and  sisters  who,  more  gifted  and 
better  fated  than  we,  shall  be  numbered  among  the  elect." 

And  this  exposition  of  corporate  characteristics  he  thus 
elaborates  in  the  Chronicle  of  1900: 

"The  Irving  Club  has  never  been  a  public,  but  always  a  pri 
vate  institution.  It  has  not  sought,  but  has  shunned  notoriety. 
Without  proclaiming  any  purpose  or  mission,  or  assuming  special 
merit,  it  has  stood  for  cleanness  in  literature,  and  for  a  conserva 
tive,  rational  and  real  progress.  It  concedes  the  right  of  all  men 
and  of  all  women  to  prophesy,  and  to  reform  anything  or  every 
thing;  but  its  mission  is  primarily  to  its  own  members,  and  it 
leaves  to  other  and  more  strenuously  progressive  organizations 
the  larger  duties  of  general  reconstruction,  and  the  higher  satis 
faction  of  persistent  public  service.  It  did  not  conceive  an  en 
thusiasm  for  Trilby  and  has  tacitly  admitted  its  incompetency 
for  the  profound  occultisms  of  Ibsen  and  his  imitators.  I  am 
happy  to  say  again  that  it  has  not  yet  reached  the  conclusion  that 
the  essence  of  poetry  consists  in  the  avoidance  of  rhyme  and 
rhythm.  It  has  not  yet  conceded  the  first  place  in  English 
poetry  to  Walt  Whitman.  It  is  not  yet  wholly  converted  to  the 
worship  of  Balzac,  and  hesitates  to  admit  that  his  was  a  mightier 
genius  than  Shakespeare's.  If  it  has  not  actively  resisted  the 
tendency  to  banish  modesty  and  decency  from  the  American  stage, 
it  has  not  openly  endorsed  the  movement.  It  observes  with  in 
terest  the  effort  to  exclude  the  masculine  sex  from  any  participa 
tion  in  affairs;  but  in  this,  as  in  all  things  else,  it  is  prepared  to 
submit  to  the  salutary  and  irresistible  laws  of  progress.  It  has 
not  denied  that  the  time  is  out  of  joint;  but  has  not  been  hasty 
to  assume  the  task  of  setting  it  right,  seeing  the  readiness  of  many 
organizations  and  of  many  individuals  to  undertake  it,  and  not 
doubting  that,  as  there  are  so  many  reformers,  the  triumph  of 
truth  and  right  is  inevitable." 

The  following  excerpt  from  the  Chronicle  of  1901  con 
tains  autobiographical  matter  of  interest,  and  charming 
commentary  on  the  Club's  relation  to  current  thought: 

"In  the  last  twenty-five  years  we  have  witnessed  some  inter 
esting  changes  in  this  eminently  respectable,  intelligent,  and  not 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  31 

wholly  unconservative  community.  I  remember  distinctly  that 
a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  I  imported  a  copy  of  Spencer's  'First 
Principles/  I  think  that  then,  and  for  some  years  after,  there 
was  no  other  in  Knoxville.  I  got  also  a  volume  of  Spencer's 
Essays,  and  from  these,  together  with  an  odd  volume  of  Laplace, 
and  some  essays  of  John  Tyndall,  and  Darwin's  arguments  on  the 
theory  of  Natural  Selection,  I  constructed  a  graduating  address 
which  I  considered  a  luminous  discussion  of,  first,  Evolution,  sec 
ond,  Natural  Selection,  and  third,  the  Nebular  Hypothesis. 
Probably  I  would  now  substitute  the  adjective  nebulous  for 
luminous.  Nevertheless,  as  a  consequence,  I  had  the  beginning 
of  a  limited  reputation  for  excessive  heterodoxy,  which  was  in 
creased  in  intensity,  if  not  in  extent,  by  a  purchase  of  the  first 
complete  set  of  Emerson  ever  seen  here.  I  used  to  keep  some  of 
Tom  Paine's  books  in  a  back  corner  of  my  bureau  drawer,  under 
my  shirts.  I  hesitated  to  accept  as  a  gift  a  copy  of  John  Morley's 
fine  essay  on  Voltaire,  and  later  was  tempted  to  conceal  the  fact 
that  I  had  bought  a  copy  of  Harriet  Martineau's  arraignment  of 
the  Positive  Philosophy.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  was  not  held  up  to 
one  Sunday-school  class  as  an  'awful  example,'  when  I  made  a 
public  address  on  Emerson.  But  alas  for  my  poor  little  hetero 
doxies,  and  my  feeble  claims  to  be  an  advanced  thinker.  Along 
with  the  heterodoxies  were  certain  hereditary  and  stubborn 
orthodoxies  which  would  not  be  displaced. 

"We  who  are  orthodox  or  even  conservative,  have  seen  large 
elements,  male,  and  it  may  be  equally  large  elements,  female, 
sweep  by  us,  exulting,  self-satisfied,  upon  a  surging  tide  of  new, 
defiant,  aggressive  thought,  wholly  iconoclastic,  delightful  in 
novelty,  supremely  confident.  The  furore  for  newness  has  spread 
wide.  Many  men  and  women  are  ready  to  accept  everything 
that  is  new.  There  is  an  immense  receptivity,  untrammelled  by 
independent  thinking,  an  unbounded,  intellectual  hospitality  un 
checked  by  discrimination,  a  mental  hastiness,  and  a  free  hand 
ling  of  the  gravest  questions,  hardly  equalled  in  New  England,  in 
the  hey-day  of  transcendentalism. 

"We  have  seen  all  manner  of  heterodoxies  and  progressions; 
splendid  and  impossible  altruistic  theories;  orientalisms  mani 
fold;  Whitmanism  clothed  in  such  resplendent  and  high  phrases 
as  'cosmic  symphonies;'  sporadic  manifestations  of  mental  sci 
ence  and  Christian  science;  ephemeral  Unitarianism  and  Uni- 
versalism;  metaphysics  of  surpassing  and  paralyzing  transcen- 
dentality;  dissatisfaction  with  all  things  existent  and  an  eager 
ness,  coupled  with  confidence,  to  recast  the  universe. 

"All  these  we  have  had  and  many  things  beside;  phases  of 


32  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

worship  of  the  alluring  goddess,  Novelty,  ever  attractive  to  minds 
that  think  quickly  and  do  not  care  to  think  otherwise.  In  all  this 
the  Irving  Club  has  had  no  part.  It  has  done  no  harm,  and  I 
think  it  has  done  much  good. 

"Let  me  say,  as  a  final  word,  that  every  thoughtful  man  must 
realize  that  without  progress  there  can  be  no  life,  individual  or 
collective.  In  all  the  vagaries  that  are  constantly  appearing 
there  may  be  elements  of  truth.  I  do  not  deny  to  any  one  sin 
cerity,  or  rectitude  of  purpose.  I  believe  that  sincerity  almost 
invariably  accompanies  the  reform  temperament,  and  is  a  suffi 
cient  cause  for  respect.  That  which  is  condemned  is  the  evil  of 
hasty  change,  the  surrender  of  judgment,  the  failure  to  think, 
and  the  bigotry  of  novelty  worship,  unconscious  it  may  be,  but 
enormous  nevertheless." 

His  first  epic  of  the  Irving  Club  concludes  with  these 
contrite  words: 

"And  now  the  poet  must  confess 
That  in  the  effort  to  express 
A  sentiment  appropriate 
To  every  associate, 
He  has  all  laws  of  rhyme  relaxed 
And  rhythmic  rules  most  sorely  taxed. 
Him  you  must  not  contemplate  as 
Gifted  with  divine  afflatus; 
No  Pegasus  he  doth  bestride; 
Drinks  not  from  Pierian  Springs, 
But  only  what  the  hydrant  brings; 
Upon  the  rhymes  in  pain  he  lingers, 
Oft  counts  his  feet  upon  his  fingers. 
He  now  admits,  as  oft  is  said, 
That  poets  are  born  and  are  not  made. 
A  promise  freely  now  he  makes, 
In  fact,  an  obligation  takes, 
That  never  more  he'll  woo  the  Muse, 
For  any's  sake,  no  matter  whose." 

Nevertheless  in  1905  again  he  " sang  in  numbers  for  the 
numbers  came;"  and  after  personal  mention  of  all  members 
he  indulges  in  this  reminiscence: 

And  so  we've  run  the  gamut  o'er, 
The  tired  Muse  will  serve  no  more, 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  33 

But  backward  turns  to  Helikon 

And  leaves  the  poet  all  alone, 

Save  for  memories  rising  fast, 

Recalling  pleasures  of  the  past; 

The  Colonel's  kind  and  genial  voice, 

His  essays  rare  and  diction  choice; 

And  Elmore,  sturdy,  wise  and  strong, 

Whose  papers  never  were  too  long; 

Nor  less  the  brightness  that  was  lent 

By  him,  our  lost,  lamented  Kent. 

Our  Henneman  I  hear  again, 

Who  all  things  did  with  might  and  main, 

Forever  instinct  with  a  zeal 

That  colder  men  can  never  feel; 

While  gracious  memories  overwhelm 

Whene'er  we  think  of  Carter  Helm. 

A  vision  comes  of  a  winter  night 

In  which  we  saw  a  pleasant  sight: 

The  Doctor*  dear  possessed  the  floor, 

And  held  it  for  an  hour  or  more; 

A  weighty  theme  evoked  his  strength, 

And  also  favored  learned  length. 

The  essay  ran  on  like  the  brook, 

Nor  e'er  the  reader  notice  took 

That  twenty  minutes  long  had  gone 

Before  his  task  was  well  begun. 

In  faultless  cadence  on  he  read 

While  Somnus  came  with  silent  tread 

To  where  the  Major  calm  reposed, 

And  gently  both  his  eyelids  closed; 

Then,  flitting  to  the  Judge's  seat, 

His  soft  enchantment  did  repeat; 

Then  Peyton,  smiling  broad  and  bland, 

Resisted  not  his  magic  hand. 

And  last  of  all  I  must  recite 

The  fall  of  knowledge-burdened  White. 

The  Doctor  read,  and  never  paused 

To  wonder  how  the  smiles  were  caused, 

As  we  beheld  the  tranquil  four, 

And  trembled  at  the  Major's  snore. 

At  last,  'mid  well-deserved  applause, 

The  Doctor  made  his  final  pause. 

His  paper,  be  it  justly  said, 

Was  eloquent  and  finely  read. 


"John  Bell  Henneman. 


34  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

Soon  as  he  stopped  the  Judge  awoke, 
And  first  of  all  the  silence  broke. 

"A  splendid  paper — on  my  word, 
A  better  one  I  never  heard. 
Nor  less  of  pleasure  comes  to  me 
Because  in  all  I  can't  agree." 
Then  up  spoke  Peyton,  half  awake, 

"My  partner's  side  I  surely  take." 
The  Major,  opening  slow  his  eyes, 
Surveyed  the  scene  with  mild  surprise: 

"Your  essay,  Doctor,  is  very  strong, 
And  not  a  single  word  too  long." 
And  White,  with  sleepy  eyes  and  voice, 
Declared  the  essay  very  choice. 


So  the  o'er  true  story  endeth,  story  of  the  golden  past, 
Years  wherein  were  born  our  friendships,  growing  stronger  till  the  last, 
Old  time  friendships  to  be  cherished,  cherished  till  the  final  call, 
For  'tis  true,  though  'tis  not  novel,  old  time  friends  are  best  of  all. 

Add  to  these  excerpts  from  divers  epics  and  chronicles 
the  composite  chronicle  of  1907,  printed  hereinafter  among 
his  literary  remains,  and  Mr.  Caldwell  is  seen  at  full  length 
in  his  happiest  mood  at  his  own  fireside  entertaining  his 
chosen  friends  of  the  Irving  Club,  with  his  joyous  fancy 
and  sparkling  humor  on  topics  of  every  kind  that  could 
amuse  and  entertain  a  company  of  gentlemen  in  the  library 
of  a  belles-lettres  scholar. 


LITERATURE    AND    HISTORY. 

What  impressed  one  familiar  with  Mr.  Caldwell's 
career  was  the  versatility  of  his  talents.  Industrious  and 
learned  as  he  was  in  the  law,  he  was  widely  proficient  and 
keenly  critical  as  a  man  of  letters.  Exhibitions  of  this  pro 
ficiency  were  noted  not  only  in  papers  read  in  the  Irving 
Club  and  in  numerous  addresses  and  publications,  but  in 
the  wideness  of  his  range  and  thoroughness  of  his  methods 
when  he  reviewed  the  literary  workmanship  of  others.  His 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  35 

literary  tastes  were  marked  even  in  childhood  and  when  a 
student  in  the  University  of  Tennessee.  In  this  formative 
period  the  love  of  good  literature  and  the  habit  of  reading 
became  fixed.  In  the  introduction  of  his  paper  on  Gold 
smith,  he  said: 

"From  my  earliest  recollection  Goldsmith  has  been  one  of  my 
chief  sources  of  pleasure.  I  can  not  remember  when  I  first  read 
Irving's  account  of  him,  and  I  know  that  I  have  read  it  at  least 
four  times.  I  can  not  remember  when  I  did  not  enjoy  Deserted  Vil 
lage  more  than  any  other  poem  in  the  language.  Moses  and  the 
Spectacles  are  among  the  things  which  I  seem  to  have  known 
about  always,  even  before  I  knew  Robinson  Crusoe  and  Friday." 

Another  glimpse  into  this  period  is  afforded  in  the  paper, 
"Puritan  Races  and  Puritan  Living."  He  says: 

"I  am  fascinated  by  mediaeval  history  and  romance.  Froissart 
filled  my  young  imagination  with  pictures  of  marvelous  splendor, 
and  gave  to  my  days  and  nights  surpassing  pleasure." 

With  rare  insight  he  roamed  over  the  fields  of  knowl 
edge,  storing  its  treasures,  culling  its  gems  and  enriching 
his  mind.  Poetry  appealed  to  his  refined  sentiment.  Amid 
his  poetical  revels  the  beauties  and  melodies  of  verse  so 
won  his  attachment  that  he,  as  these  pages  attest,  showed 
himself  a  no  mean  master  of  versification.  In  the  higher 
class  of  fiction,  he  had  an  intimacy  with  its  best  produc 
tions,  which  made  his  criticisms  of  that  department  of  lit 
erature  penetrating  and  illuminative.  With  the  great  ora 
tors  of  ancient  and  modern  times  he  had  acquainted  himself 
in  a  way  which  evidenced  that  he  understood  the  conditions 
which  called  forth  their  impassioned  utterances,  and  appre 
ciated  the  arts  by  which  they  aroused  audiences  and  con 
vinced  judgments. 

It  was  in  the  historical  domain  of  letters  that  he  gave 
forth  the  best  fruits  of  his  training  and  investigation.  As 
these  pages  abundantly  testify,  he  was  a  devoted  student  of 
the  history  of  his  native  State.  In  permanent  form  he  has  left 


36  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

the  results  of  his  investigations.  His  "Constitutional  His 
tory  of  Tennessee"  and  "Bench  and  Bar  of  Tennessee" 
have  upon  them  the  stamp  of  the  trained  student  and  sincere 
lover  of  his  native  State's  institutions  and  of  her  great  law 
yers.  Working  in  a  new  department  of  the  State's  history, 
wherein  the  sources  were  difficult  to  secure,  in  his  own 
mind  there  was  not  the  satisfaction  he  had  hoped  to  enjoy 
from  the  results  of  his  labors.  Yet  a  lasting  debt  of  grat 
itude  is  due  him  in  that  he  contributed  so  much  towards 
preserving  essential  facts,  which  but  for  him  might  have 
remained  forgotten  or  unknown. 

The  first  edition  of  "Constitutional  History  of  Tennes 
see"  appeared  in  1895.  With  students  of  government  and 
institutions  it  won  immediate  recognition,  and  was  cited  as 
a  valuable  authority.  Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt,  in  his 
"Winning  of  the  West,"  frequently  referred  to  it.  The 
lamented  Dr.  John.  Bell  Henneman,  in  the  August,  1896, 
issue  of  the  Sewanee  Review,  had  an  illuminating  article 
on  "Recent  Tennessee  History  by  Tennesseans."  Refer 
ring  incidentally  to  Mr.  Roosevelt's  volumes  as  indicative 
of  a  new  American  spirit,  "American  to  the  core,  native  of 
America,  nourished  under  American  government  and  de 
veloped  under  American  conditions,"  he  says: 

"This  was  the  inspiration  of  the  message  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's 
volumes  to  Tennessee  students.  This  likewise  is  the  spirit  under 
lying  the  volume  by  Mr.  J.  W.  Caldwell  on  the  constitutional 
development  of  Tennessee.  Not  that  Mr.  Roosevelt's  volumes 
were  needed  to  interest  him  primarily.  The  interest  was  there 
already — deep  laid  by  years  of  reading  and  investigation.  But 
the  spark  was  fanned,  as  it  were,  into  a  sudden  blaze  and  the 
gradual  accumulations  were  at  length  ordered  and  shaped  in 
emulation  of  the  spirit  pervading  Mr.  Roosevelt's  work.  Not  all 
Tennessee  history  should  await  record  by  non-Tennesseans,  and 
particularly  that  which  possibly  only  one,  native  and  to  the  manor 
born,  could  best  and  most  truly  interpret. 

"  'Did  I  have  the  time  and  leisure  from  the  imperative  de 
mands  of  the  duties  of  life,'  said  Mr.  Caldwell  once  in  effect,  feel- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  37 

ingly,  and  apart  from  all  reference  to  Mr.  Roosevelt's  work,  'the 
history  of  the  formative  period  in  Tennessee,  particularly  that  of 
East  Tennessee,  should  be  finally  written.'  'Not  finally,'  replied 
his  close  friend  and  warm  admirer,  Mr.  E.  T.  Sanford,  playing 
upon  the  word,  'for  after  you  had  finished  yours,  I  should  then  add 
mine.'  Enough  honest  difference  of  opinion,  or  rather,  enough 
different  points  of  view  exist  for  interests  most  varied.  And  may 
both  of  these  gentlemen  find  the  otium  cum  dignitate,  or  better, 
the  relaxation  amidst  other  professional  and  business  pursuits  to 
gather  and  sift  and  give  that  remnant  of  results  which  will  prove 
the  noblest  monument  to  their  native  State  and  section,  and  to 
themselves  and  their  interests  and  culture. 

"At  least  the  beginning  has  been  made  in  the  case  of  each,  and 
with  each  in  his  individual  way.  Mr.  Caldwell  has  given  us  a 
series  of  chapters  on  the  constitutional  history  of  Tennessee, 
which,  as  all  who  know  the  man  and  his  zeal  and  thoroughness 
believe,  excellent  as  they  are,  are  but  the  introductory  announce 
ment  to  a  large  treatise  to  follow.  ********* 

"Mr.  Caldwell  emphasizes  the  importance  of  the  Scotch-Irish 
element  in  early  Tennessee  history.  I  believe  the  author  is  right, 
and  I  do  not  believe  he  is  affected  by  distinct  personal,  even  if 
unconscious  predilection  for  that  strong  and  virile  race  of  which 
he  himself  is  a  marked  and  worthy  representative.  *  *  *  It 
is  in  tracing  the  continuity  in  the  institutions  and  in  the  people  of 
Tennessee  that  Mr.  Caldwell's  book  calls  forth  sustained  atten 
tion  and  ranks  as  a  distinct  contribution." 

A  second  edition  of  "Constitutional  History  of  Tennes 
see"  was  brought  out  by  the  author  in  1907,  the  first  edi 
tion  having  been  exhausted.  In  the  preface  he  says:  "I 
have  called  it  a  revised  edition  because,  while  the  substance 
of  the  first  issue  has  been  retained,  it  is  presented,  usually 
in  changed  form,  and  frequently,  in  different  relation;  and 
because  of  the  large  amount  of  new  matter  that  has  been 
added."  To  what  extent  it  was  enlarged  may  be  seen  in 
the  fact  that  whereas  the  first  edition  contained  only  about 
175,  the  second  numbers  over  400  pages.  Its  value  is  de 
noted  by  its  adoption  as  a  text  book,  in  some  of  the  fore 
most  universities  of  the  State. 

It  is  fortunate  that  Mr.  Caldwell  gave  to  the  public  a 
careful  revision  of  his  Constitutional  History  of  Tennessee. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


The  fresh  presentation  of  the  substance  of  the  first  edition, 
with  the  numerous  authorities,  make  the  new  edition  much 
more  satisfactory.  The  chapters  on  the  Wautauga  Associa 
tion,  the  State  of  Franklin,  and  Internal  Improvements  and 
the  State  Debt  are  strong  presentations  of  interesting  and 
important  subjects.  The  critical  analysis  of  Tennessee's 
three  constitutions  makes  the  work  invaluable.  His  argu 
ments  in  favor  of  a  revision  of  the  Constitution  of  1870 
are  unanswerable.  It  is  an  excellent  account  of  the 
growth  of  Tennessee's  government.  The  vividness  of 
the  style  imparts  life  to  the  events  described.  The 
political  institutions  of  Tennessee  are  not  treated  as 
mere  abstractions.  They  are  linked  with  the  lives  of  the 
great  personages  of  the  State  in  such  a  skillful  and 
delightful  manner  as  to  make  them  appear  as  living 
things.  Nor  does  the  work  deal  with  the  petty  squabbles 
of  politicians.  It  is  a  dignified  account  of  the  develop 
ment  of  the  political  institutions  of  Tennessee  presented 
with  accuracy  and  simplicity. 

Mr.  Caldwell's  other  book,  "Sketches  of  the  Bench  and 
Bar  of  Tennessee"  was  published  in  1898.  The  volume 
contains  sketches  of  one  hundred  and  thirteen  lawyers,  ex 
cluding  accounts  of  any  then  living.  With  industry  he  col 
lected  his  facts  and,  with  impartiality  of  view,  presented 
them.  Therein  are  brought  before  the  reader  in  vividness 
and  picturesqueness  of  outline  the  lives  of  most  of  the  note 
worthy  lawyers  who  achieved  fame  in  State  annals  or  acted 
a  conspicuous  part  at  the  bar.  Besides  indicating  the  char 
acter  of  professional  services  rendered  by  these  men  and 
the  political  offices  they  filled,  Mr.  Caldwell  has  given  some 
glimpses  of  the  social  life  of  the  people  among  whom  they 
practised,  thus  arguing  wisely  that  men  are  not  to  be  studied 
apart  from  environment  and  conditions.  The  book  surveys 
almost  the  entire  history  of  Tennessee,  and  is  proportion 
ately  interesting  as  one  is  familiar  with  that  history.  In  a 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  39 

fine  spirit  and  with  pronounced  success,  the  author  did  a 
work  which  merits  the  grateful  recognition  of  every  Ten- 
nessean  who  would  have  the  annals  of  his  State  fairly, 
clearly  and  faithfully  recorded. 

At  one  time  Mr.  Caldwell  seriously  proposed  to  him 
self  the  task  of  writing  the  history  of  Tennessee  upon  a 
more  elaborate  scale  than  that  suggested  in  the  conversa 
tion  quoted  by  Dr.  Henneman.  The  portion  which  ap 
pealed  to  him  as  particularly  needful  of  record  was  that 
from  the  rise  of  Andrew  Jackson  to  the  civil  war.  To  him, 
this  was  the  golden  age  of  Tennessee.  Ramsey  and  Hay- 
wood  wrote  only  of  the  State's  beginnings.  While  he 
placed  a  high  estimate  upon  Phelan's  work,  he  saw  that 
the  later  historian  had  compressed  into  a  few  pages  this 
splendid  epoch.  How  competent  he  was  to  deal  with  it 
may  be  discerned  from  his  Bench  and  Bar  sketches  and 
from  his  historical  studies  and  addresses  found  in  this  vol 
ume.  Duty  to  family  and  clients  appealed  to  him  as  mo  re 
urgent,  and  the  task  was  foregone. 

At  any  rate,  though  the  larger  work  remained  unper 
formed,  in  the  years  to  come  the  volumes  from  his  pen  will 
testify  to  his  faithful  effort  to  contribute  somewhat  to  the 
preservation  of  the  rich  historic  material  of  the  State.  His 
State  pride  was  limitless.  He  took  a  just  pride  in  the 
achievements  of  the  great  sons  of  Tennessee,  whether  upon 
the  national  arena  or  in  State  councils.  He  felt  a  supreme 
interest  in  the  encouragement  of  investigations  and  studies 
that  would  bring  to  light  larger  information  touching  Ten- 
nesseans  who  had  played  prominent  parts  in  the  State's 
history  and  had  contributed  to  her  welfare  and  glory.  The 
impulses  he  started  and  his  own  accomplishments  make 
his  name  and  fame  imperishable. 

Other  historical  writings  preserved  in  print  and  of 
permanent  value  are  the  article  on  "  Knoxville  "in  Lyman 
W.  Powell's  book,  "  Historic  Towns  of  the  South;"  the 


4O  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

communication  in  the  Knoxville  Tribune  of  June  19,  i 
on  John  Sevier,  written  upon  the  occasion  of  bringing  the 
remains  of  the  hero  from  Alabama  to  rest  in  Court  Square 
at  Knoxville;  and  the  argument  in  the  Knoxville  Sentinel 
in  May,  1900,  showing  conclusively  that  Admiral  Farragut 
was  born  at  Low's  Ferry  instead  of  Campbell's  Station,  in 
Knox  County.  In  recognition  of  the  merit  and  value  of  his 
historical  contributions,  he  was  elected  honorary  member 
of  the  Tennessee  Historical  Society  and  corresponding 
member  of  the  Minnesota  Historical  Society.  Also,  in  1898, 
he  was  made  lecturer  in  the  University  of  Tennessee  on 
the  constitutional  history  of  Tennessee,  a  position  he  filled 
up  to  his  death. 

As  essayist  Mr.  Caldwell  early  won  an  established 
place  in  magazine  literature.  Beginning  with  a  con 
tribution  on  "The  New  and  the  Old  in  the  South,"  in  the 
August,  1889,  Belford's  Magazine,  for  several  years  articles 
of  interest  and  value  appeared  from  his  pen  in  representa 
tive  periodicals.  In  the  December,  1890,  New  England 
Magazine,  he  had  an  able  and  suggestive  article  on  "Our 
Unclean  Fiction."  As  the  article  reproduced  herein  from 
Fetter's  Southern  Magazine  shows,  this  was  a  subject 
which  engaged  his  most  serious  study  and  called  forth 
strong  protests  against  the  insidious,  corrupting  influences 
exercised  upon  public  morals  by  this  species  of  literature. 
This  fight  against  impure  literature  he  kept  up  to  the  end 
of  his  life.  In  this  connection  it  is  fitting  to  say,  it  was  as 
trustee  of  the  Lawson  McGee  library  that  he  placed  the 
community  in  which  he  lived  under  heavy  obligation.  As 
far  as  the  resources  of  the  library  permitted,  he  made  it  an 
earnest  object  to  provide  only  such  books  as  were  whole 
some  and  stimulating.  For  those  of  questionable  taste 
or  immoral  taint  he  had  such  abhorrence  that,  under  his 
careful  scrutiny,  they  were  rigidly  rejected. 

Another  article  by  him  appeared  in  Belford's  Magazine 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  4! 

November,  1891,  on  "The  Manufacture  of  Dialect."  In 
this  he  indicated  how  thorough-going  an  East  Tennessean 
he  was.  In  dignified  but  unmistakable  terms  he  con 
demned  literary  work,  though  stamped  with  evidences  of 
genius,  that,  in  his  view,  misrepresented  the  mountaineers 
of  his  native  section.  In  making  out  his  case  against 
Charles  Egbert  Craddock  as  drawing  in  large  measure  on 
imagination  for  her  dialect,  it  must  be  conceded  that  he 
proved  it  by  the  evidence  adduced  from  her  work,  "The 
Despot  of  Broom  Sedge  Cove."  The  burden  of  the  article 
is  summed  up  in  the  concluding  paragraph,  to-wit: 

"This  article  is  a  protest  against  the  multiplication  of  stories, 
long  and  short,  which  are  of  inferior  literary  and  artistic  quality, 
and  are  tolerated  only  because  the  public  is  amused  by  an  absurd 
jumble  of  mutilated  words,  or  led  to  believe  that  a  spurious  dia 
lect  is  genuine." 

It  was  the  superior  quality  of  these  articles,  in  their  lit 
erary  finish  and  with  their  incisive  touch,  which  called  forth 
from  Dr.  Charles  W.  Kent,  then  professor  of  English  Liter 
ature  in  the  University  of  Tennessee,  a  richly  deserved 
tribute.  In  February,  1892,  Dr.  Kent  delivered  an  address 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Associa 
tion  of  the  University  of  Tennessee,  on  "The  Outlook  for 
Literature  in  the  South."  It  was  subsequently  printed  in 
pamphlet  form  by  a  committee  of  the  organization,  being 
worthily  regarded  as  entitled  to  preservation.  Speaking  of 
the  literary  forces  at  work  in  East  Tennessee,  Dr.  Kent 
said: 

"At  present  our  most  serious  and  commendable  literary  work 
is  being  done  for  various  magazines  by  J.  W.  Caldwell,  who,  in  the 
midst  of  overcrowding  legal  duties,  finds  time  to  show  his  friends 
how  much  we  have  lost  in  that  he  did  not  devote  his  life  to  let 
ters." 

Mr.  Caldwell  made  two  ventures  in  a  domain  of  litera 
ture  of  which  few,  if  any,  of  his  friends  had  any  knowledge. 


42  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

This  was  as  a  writer  of  fiction.  In  1893,  over  the  nom  de 
plume,  "John  P.  Russell,"  he  wrote  for  Worthington's 
Magazine,  published  at  Hartford,  Conn.,  two  stories,  re 
spectively  "The  'Tater-Bug  Parson"  and  "The  Dumpling 
Mine."  These,  according  to  some  notes  left  on  the  margin 
of  the  former,  were  written  during  a  Tate  Springs  vacation 
and  at  odd  hours  later.  He  says,  "I  think  I  received  a 
little  less  than  fifty  dollars  for  the  two."  The  former  is  given 
in  this  volume  not  only  as  a  specimen  of  his  versatile  talents, 
but  for  the  intrinsic  merit  and  unflagging  interest  that  attach 
to  the  story. 

In  giving  an  exhibit  of  Mr.  Cald well's  literary  produc 
tions  and  scholarly  activities,  it  remains  to  speak  of  his 
lectures  on  some  of  the  church  fathers.  These  were  deliv 
ered  before  the  St.  Andrew's  Brotherhood  of  St.  John's 
Church,  and  in  their  extent  cover  Athanasius,  St.  Augustine, 
St.  Jerome,  St.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  St.  Ambrose  and 
others.  Church  history  became  to  him  at  the  outset  of  his 
career  a  subject  of  deep  interest.  Preserved  among  his 
papers  is  one  in  his  handwriting,  penned  April  28,  1876. 
The  heading  is  "Arian,  Nestorian,  Etc."  Introductory  and 
explanatory  is  this:  "I  experience  considerable  difficulty 
in  keeping  apart — clear  in  my  mind — the  doctrines  of  these 
and  other  of  the  heresies  of  the  early  church;  and  to  obviate 
this  difficulty,  shall  endeavor  to  express  my  conceptions  of 
them  in  a  few  sentences." 

His  last  magazine  article,  entitled  "A  Brief  for  Boswell," 
appeared  in  the  July,  1905,  Sewanee  Review.  It  was  ten 
dered  in  response  to  the  urgent  request  of  the  editor,  Dr. 
John  B.  Henneman,  who  was  reluctant  to  see  Mr.  Cald- 
well's  growing  absorption  in  legal  practice  and  the  corre 
sponding  decrease  of  his  literary  contributions.  His  last 
published  utterance  came  out  after  his  death.  It  is  in 
"The  South  in  the  Building  of  the  Nation,"  Vol.  VII.,  and 
was  written  upon  the  insistence  of  the  editor-in-chief  of  the 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  43 

volume,  Dr.  Henneman.  The  volume  is  devoted  to  a  his 
tory  of  the  intellectual  life  of  the  South,  and  the  subject  of 
Mr.  Caldwell's  chapter  is  "The  Influence  of  the  Bench  and 
Bar  upon  Southern  Life  and  Culture."  By  permission  it 
is  reprinted  in  this  volume  of  his  literary  remains,  and  will 
rank  among  his  best  occasional  pieces. 

It  is  noticeable  that  during  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life 
he  gave  far  less  time  to  productive  literary  work  than  dur 
ing  the  preceding  decade.  His  legal  practice  steadily 
assumed  larger  proportions,  and  he  came  to  be  employed 
in  litigation  where  the  cases  involved  vast  interests.  Dur 
ing  the  years  of  his  greatest  literary  and  historical  activity 
he  might  have  sat  for  the  picture  of  the  lawyer  drawn  by 
Maurice  Thompson,  who  himself  in  his  early  career  was  a 
lawyer  more  addicted  to  writing  sketches,  stories  and  poems 
than  to  paying  his  devotions  to  Themis.  Thompson,  in 
his  story,  "  The  Banker  of  Bankersville,"  puts  in  the  mouth 
of  a  farmer  who  admires  his  lawyer  extravagantly,  but  can 
not  sympathize  with  his  literary  pursuits,  this  remark: 
"Colonel,  you're  a  mighty  smart  man.  You  could  go  to 
Congress,  if  you'd  stop  writing  them  durn  little  pomes!" 
No  doubt  he  had  come  to  feel  that  his  literary  success  was, 
in  a  way,  an  impediment  to  his  legal  practice. 


ORATOR. 


As  an  orator  Mr.  Caldwell  was  approachable  by  few 
men  in  the  State  or  the  South.  His  oratory  was  not  of  that 
flowery  or  ornate  kind  once  more  noticeable  and  appreci 
ated  than  in  these  more  practical  days.  With  solid  argu 
ment  he  united  elegant  diction.  His  periods  were  always 
well  rounded.  His  gestures  were  uniformly  apt  and  grace 
ful.  His  voice  was  rich  and  rhythmical.  From  grave 
matters  he  could  enter  upon  discussions  of  a  light  charac 
ter  with  rare  tact  and  in  a  captivating  manner.  In  such 


44  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

turns,  his  wit  was  sparkling  and  his  humor  infectious. 
In  the  banquet  halls  he  could  set  the  tables  to  roars  of 
laughter.  One  must  have  been  woefully  ignorant  who,  on 
any  occasion  where  he  made  a  speech,  left  without  being 
clear  in  his  own  mind  of  the  meaning  of  the  speaker. 

Upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  Mr.  George  F.  Milton, 
editor  of  the  Knoxville  Sentinel,  thus  wrote  of  his  oratori 
cal  gifts: 

"As  an  orator  he  easily  surpassed  others  in  this  region  and  had 
a  reputation  all  over  the  country.  His  diction,  even  in  an  extem 
poraneous  address,  was  of  faultless  English.  There  was  a  mild 
humor,  a  ripeness  of  thought  and  an  ease  of  manner  which  always 
carried  his  audience  with  him.  His  ideas  were  lofty,  and  few  ever 
heard  him  without  wishing  that  he  might  be  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States  to  speak  to  the  nation." 

As  orator  and  after-dinner  speaker,  he  was  much  in 
demand.  To  these  invitations  he  responded  cheerfully 
and  with  as  much  frequency  as  the  engagements  of  a  busy 
lawyer  permitted.  As  has  been  shown,  there  was  hardly 
a  public  occasion  in  which  the  University  of  Tennessee 
was  interested  when  he  was  not  called  upon  to  participate 
in  pleasing  speech.  Before  women's  clubs  he  spoke  with 
rare  felicity.  One  of  his  most  notable  addresses  was  that 
delivered  before  the  Ossoli  Circle,  the  oldest  of  the  women's 
clubs  of  Knoxville,  on  "Aspects  of  American  Life  and  Cul 
ture."  In  March,  1887,  at  Carson  and  Newman  College, 
he  delivered  an  address  on  "Americanisms/'  It  was  a 
subject  to  which  he  gave  serious  thought  and  prolonged 
investigation,  the  fruit  of  which  is  to  be  seen  in  the  article 
published  in  The  Arena,  entitled  "The  South  is  Ameri 
can,"  and  appearing  in  this  volume.  Addresses  that  left 
profound  impressions  were  made  before  the  graduates  of 
Knoxville  Female  Institute,  in  1889,  and  of  East  Tennes 
see  Institute,  in  1896  and  in  1907.  In  1901,  he  delivered  the 
annual  literary  address  at  the  commencement  of  the  Uni- 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  45 

versity  of  the  South,  at  Sewanee.  For  disinterested  pub 
lic  service  in  the  advancement  of  culture,  no  man  of  his 
section  or  State  has  a  more  creditable  record. 

Upon  patriotic  occasions  and  before  patriotic  organiza 
tions,  he  appeared  in  best  form  and  distinguished  himself 
always.  Only  a  few  addresses  delivered  under  such  cir 
cumstances  can  be  mentioned  as  indicative  of  the  appre 
ciation  with  which  they  were  received.  In  1890,  the 
twenty-seventh  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Knoxville  was 
celebrated.  Gen.  James  Longstreet  was  present.  Fed 
eral  and  Confederate  veterans  jointly  engaged  in  the  cele 
bration.  In  behalf  of  the  city  of  Knoxville,  Mr.  Caldwell 
welcomed  the  veterans.  He  embraced  the  opportunity, 
noting  the  fraternal  spirit  existing  between  the  old  soldiers 
who  fought  on  opposite  sides,  to  urge  the  cultivation  of  a 
better  understanding  between  the  sections.  The  signifi 
cance  of  the  occasion  emphasized  the  importance  of  both 
remembering  and  forgetting.  Participants  and  sympa 
thizers  on  both  sides  were  "to  remember  the  heroic  deeds 
and  the  mighty  works  of  the  past,  and  to  forget  all  else." 
Again,  in  September,  1895,  he  made  the  address  of  wel 
come  at  the  camp  fire,  held  at  Staub's  opera  house,  when 
the  national  organization  of  the  Sons  of  Federal  Veterans 
convened  for  the  first  time  upon  Southern  soil.  If  one 
will  read  that  speech,  he  will  find  it  breathing  and  pulsa 
ting  with  the  noblest  sentiments  of  reconciliation  and  fra 
ternity.  In  bringing  about  a  better  understanding  between 
the  once  alienated  sections  of  the  country,  he  deserves  to 
rank  with  other  men  of  the  younger  generation,  like 
Henry  W.  Grady,  James  Lane  Allen,  William  P.  Trent 
and  Thomas  Nelson  Page. 

There  was  manly  dignity  and  no  diminution  of  self- 
respect  in  the  pleas  he  made  for  nationalism  as  separate 
from  sectionalism.  Let  it  be  remembered  that,  first  of 
all,  he  was  East  Tennessean — proud  of  the  region  of  his 


4°  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

nativity.  Next,  he  was  Tennessean,  then  Southern,  and 
finally  American.  There  was  a  place  for  locality,  State, 
section  and  nation  in  his  capacious  heart,  He  never  failed 
to  vindicate  the  acts  and  motives  that  caused  East  Tennes 
see  to  become  divided  into  two  hostile  camps.  He  under 
stood  the  constitution  of  the  United  States  so  thoroughly 
as  to  see  how  sections  of  his  country  could  become  arrayed 
in  deadly  conflict  over  divergent  constructions  of  that  in 
strument.  When,  therefore,  after  submission  to  the  arbi 
trament  of  arms,  the  decision  went  against  his  native  home 
and  section,  he  pleaded  for  the  acceptance  of  results  as  a 
finality.  In  the  speech  made  at  the  camp  fire,  he  said: 

"Every  issue  of  the  war  is  dead,  dead,  dead.  I  am  of  the 
South,  all  Southern.  My  faith  in  the  sincerity  and  truth  of  our 
fathers  who  followed  Jackson  and  Lee  is  invincible,  and  my  ad 
miration  of  their  devotion  and  their  valor  is  unbounded.  This  is 
the  sentiment  of  every  true  Southern  man;  but  I  say  to  you  that 
there  is  not  in  all  the  South  one  man  of  intelligence  who  would 
revive  an  issue  of  the  war.  Those  issues  were  obliterated,  washed 
out  in  the  best  blood  of  both  sections,  and  for  them  there  is  no  pos 
sibility  of  resurrection." 

Possibly  the  two  greatest  speeches  that  he  ever  made 
were  before  the  Society  of  the  Sons  of  the  Revolution,  of 
which  organization  he  became  a  member  in  1894.  One 
was  before  the  New  York  Society,  and  took  place  in  New 
York  City,  February  22,  1898.  The  other  was  at  the 
triennial  banquet  of  the  General  Society,  and  was  delivered 
at  Washington,  D.  C.,  April  19,  1902.  The  subject  of  the 
former  was  "The  Patriotism  of  the  South."  The  latter, 
on  "The  South  in  the  Revolution,"  is  published  in  this 
volume.  Each  was  widely  noticed  in  the  press  of  the 
country,  and  elicited  much  favorable  comment.  The  de 
mand  for  copies  of  the  speeches  became  so  insistent  on 
the  part  of  friends  that  he  printed  them  in  pamphlet  form. 
Explanatory  of  their  publication  he  says: 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  47 

"These  speeches  are  printed  at  the  request  of  a  number  of 
friends.  The  most  pleasing  fact  connected  with  them  is  the  cor 
diality  with  which  they  were  received  by  audiences  largely  com 
posed  of  Northern  men.  The  Washington  speech  was  in  the 
main  extemporaneous  and  is  printed  from  revised  stenographic 
notes.  The  New  York  speech  is  not  reproduced  in  full,  because 
parts  of  it  were,  in  substance,  repeated  in  the  later  address.  In 
completeness  is  unavoidable  in  after-dinner  speeches  and  I  have 
made  very  few  amendments  of  the  two  now  presented." 

It  was  in  the  speech,  "The  Patriotism  of  the  South," 
that,  without  mincing  words  or  cloaking  views,  he  main 
tained  the  position  and  declared  the  policy  of  the  South 
with  reference  to  the  race  problem.  He  affirmed  that  the 
dangers  imminent  in  the  South  from  the  presence  of  the 
negro  did  not  compare  with  those  confronting  the  North 
from  the  "vast  accumulations  of  filth  and  offal"  dumped 
annually  on  her  shores  from  foreign  countries.  In  the 
latter  speech,  addressing  himself  to  the  dangers  charged 
as  besetting  Southern  civilization  from  the  great  illiteracy 
of  her  population,  he  said: 

"But  you  say  the  South  is  illiterate  and  unprogressive.  I 
affirm  that  the  average  mountaineer  of  Tennessee  or  North  Car 
olina,  who  to  the  Northern  mind  is  the  incarnation  of  ignorance 
and  uncouthness,  is  familiar  with  public  questions,  loves  liberty 
more  than  life,  is  the  most  independent  of  human  beings,  and  is 
absolutely  loyal  to  the  Union  and  the  Constitution.  The  South  is 
a  reservoir  of  Americanism,  from  which  the  republic  may  draw  in 
every  emergency.  Its  patriotism  is  without  alloy,  and  its  cour 
age  will  never  falter." 

Of  the  Washington  address,  a  correspondent  of  the 
Atlanta  Constitution  said: 

"The  orator  of  the  evening  was  the  Hon.  J.  W.  Caldwell,  of 
Knoxville,  Tenn.,  one  of  the  most  cultured  and  fluent  speakers 
of  the  South.  Mr.  Caldwell  was  at  his  best  and  before  he  had 
been  on  his  feet  five  minutes  he  had  captured  his  audience.  His 
well  modulated  voice,  his  nicely  chosen  phrases  and  his  easy, 
graceful  style  were  as  rare  as  they  were  delightfully  received. 
Proudly  did  he  point  to  the  heroic  deeds  of  those  who  went  from 


48  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

the  peaceful  homes  in  his  section  into  the  heat  of  battle.  Through 
out  his  address  he  kept  pleasantly  and  invitingly  before  his  hearers 
the  great  possibilities  of  the  South  in  every  way." 

In  recounting  this  phase  of  Mr.  Caldwell's  life  and 
activity,  two  other  occasions  may  be  cited  on  which  he 
shone  with  brilliancy.  One  was  when  he  acted  as  toast- 
master  upon  the  tender  of  a  banquet  to  Admiral  W.  S. 
Schley  by  the  Knoxville  Chamber  of  Commerce  on  Febru 
ary  5,  1902.  The  other  was  when,  five  years  later,  he 
acted  in  a  similar  capacity  for  the  Knoxville  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association.  It  was  upon  the  occasion  of 
beginning  a  campaign  for  the  raising  of  $60,000  for  the 
enlargement  of  that  organization's  work.  The  late  Sena 
tor  E.  W.  Carmack,  of  whom  he  was  a  warm  personal 
friend  and  political  supporter,  was  the  leading  speaker  of 
the  evening. 


CIVIC    LIFE. 


In  promoting  the  public  welfare  through  unselfish  ser 
vice,  Mr.  Caldwell  was  also  active  through  the  contribu 
tions  made  to  the  daily  press.  His  ability  to  wield  a  force 
ful  and  graceful  pen,  his  warm  interest  in  current  questions, 
and  his  sane  views  of  public  morals  and  conduct  made  him 
a  valuable  ally  of  editors  in  molding  sound  public  opinion. 
The  early  years  of  his  professional  life  were  much  given  to 
the  writing  of  editorials.  The  old  Knoxville  Tribune  was 
a  medium  through  which  he  reached  the  public.  In  a  series 
of  editorials  entitled  "  Revenue  Reform,"  he  evinced  care 
ful  study  of  economic  questions.  When  G rover  Cleveland's 
first  administration  closed,  under  the  caption,  "The  Demo 
cratic  Leader,"  he  reviewed  the  administration  with  critical 
acumen  and  appreciative  comment.  A  noted  editorial  was 
one  that  appeared  January  31,  1888,  "More  Blood."  A 
violent  encounter  had  taken  place  in  Knoxville,  instigated 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  49 

by  a  ruffianly  spirit,  and  death  claimed  a  victim.    This  part 
of  the  editorial  utterance  cannot  be  repeated  too  frequently: 

"Such  conduct  was  wholly  irrational  and  inhuman,  and  men 
capable  of  it  are  enemies  of  society;  and  society  can  not  too  severe 
ly  punish  them.  Such  men  have  been  the  curse  of  this  commu 
nity.  They  have  time  and  again  stained  our  good  name  and  dis 
graced  us  by  acts  of  violence  and  brutalism.  The  interests  of  so 
ciety  imperatively  demand  plain  speaking  and  vigorous  action  on 
this  subject.  We  must  have  an  end  of  violence  and  bloodshed. 
Brutalism  must  be  put  down.  The  law  must  crush  these  men 
who  think  themselves  greater  than  the  law.  We  decry  dueling, 
but  dueling  better  a  thousand  times  than  this.  There  are  many 
who  think  that  for  every  affront,  every  insult,  every  criticism  of 
themselves,  the  answer  must  be  a  blow  or  a  stab  or  a  shot.  They 
habitually  put  the  law  under  their  feet.  We  must  put  them 
under  the  law  and  grind  them  to  powder.  Violence  is  the  law 
and  attribute  of  beasts  and  savages.  If  we  have  savages  in  our 
midst,  the  sooner  the  law  makes  an  end  of  them  the  better." 

When  the  Tennessee  Press  Association  met  in  Knoxville 
in  the  summer  of  1884,  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  respond  to  the 
first  toast  at  the  banquet  given  in  its  honor,  "  The  Tennes 
see  Press."  Running  through  it  was  the  delightful  humor 
which  permeated  his  every  public  utterance.  At  the  end 
of  his  career  he  was  associated  with  the  press,  being  a 
director  of  the  Knoxville  Sentinel  Company,  and  its  legal 
counselor.  One  of  the  last  plans  projected  by  him  was 
the  publication  of  a  series  of  articles  on  the  necessity  of  a 
new  constitution  for  the  State,  a  subject  about  which,  at 
intervals,  he  had  written  copiously  and  luminously  for  the 
press. 

The  last  distinct  service  of  a  public  character  rendered 
by  Mr.  Caldwell  was  as  chairman  of  the  committee  to  draft 
a  new  charter  for  Knoxville.  As  an  authority  on  constitu 
tional  and  municipal  law,  by  common  consent,  the  work 
of  preparing  the  instrument  devolved  upon  him.  He  ad 
dressed  himself  earnestly  to  the  task,  but  it  had  been  cast 
only  in  the  rough  stage  when  death  overtook  him  and  left 
the  work  to  other  hands. 


5O  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

CHURCH    AND    HOME. 

All  the  years  of  his  wedded  life  Mr.  Caldwell  was  an 
attendant  upon  Prayer-book  worship,  and  for  twenty-one 
years  was  a  communicant  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  in  St.  John's  Parish.  He  was  constant  in  devotions, 
regular  in  attendance  and  faithful  in  service. 

Of  Presbyterian  ancestry  and  rearing,  of  Puritanical 
inclination  and  culture,  of  Scotch-Irish  fibre  and  grain,  it 
is  readily  seen  that  his  leanings  would  not  be  toward  lax 
living  or  corporate  domination.  Catholic  he  was  in  senti 
ment  and  culture,  but  content  with  the  name  "  Protestant 
Episcopal"  and  with  its  implications. 

Indeed  his  tastes  and  habits  were  rather  congregational 
or  parochial,  than  diocesan  or  national.  He  was  a  ves 
tryman  of  St.  John's  for  fifteen  years,  and  senior  war 
den  for  the  last  twelve  years  thereof,  down  to  his  death; 
and  in  this  office  and  service  he  found  pleasure  and  the 
Church  great  profit.  To  the  interest  and  welfare  of  the 
congregation  he  gave  himself  freely;  and  his  constant 
and  faithful  attention  to  the  affairs  of  the  parish  received 
its  grateful  appreciation.  But  though  often  chosen  as  a 
parish  delegate  his  attendance  on  the  Diocesan  Conven 
tions  was  occasional  only;  and  he  was  satisfied  with  a 
single  week  at  the  Washington  General  Convention,  and 
did  not  attend  another. 

The  man  was  dominated  by  his  moral  and  religious 
qualities.  His  habits  of  thought  were  orthodox  and  he 
was  a  loyal  churchman  of  abundant  labors;  but  his  in 
clinations  were  not  sacerdotal  or  ritualistic.  To  him  re 
ligion  was  rather  personal  than  corporate,  an  evangel 
rather  than  an  organism. 

For  years  he  taught  a  large  Bible  Class  of  young  women 
which  came  to  be  one  of  the  features  of  St.  John's,  and  at 
tracted  scores  of  eager  students  to  the  Church  every  Sun 
day  morning  to  the  great  edification  of  the  congregation. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 


He  felt  and  thought  as  expressed  by  the  great  Erskine, 
his  unconscious  antetype,  that  there  is  a  real  connection 
between  happiness  and  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God; 
and  that  the  object  of  true  religion  is  so  to  present  His 
character  as  that  men  may  comprehend  the  divine  order 
and  feel  their  affections  brought  into  harmony  with  it, 
through  necessary  spiritual  renovation;  and  that  Christ 
ianity,  in  its  adoption  of  the  principles  of  natural  religion 
and  its  lively  representation  of  the  perfect  character  of  God, 
develops  in  man  a  character  suited  for  and  aspiring  to  ob 
tain  true  and  immortal  happiness,  and  has  given  to  the 
world  its  best  and  highest  civilization. 

So  thinking  and  feeling  he  worshiped  the  Lord  in  the 
beauty  of  holiness.  Ever  cherishing  a  lively  and  steadfast 
hope  in  the  abundance  of  His  mercy,  he  showed  forth  His 
praise  not  only  with  his  lips,  but  in  his  life,  by  giving  him 
self  to  His  service  and  by  walking  before  Him  and  his  fel 
low-man  in  righteousness  all  the  days  of  his  life. 

He  was  married  to  Miss  Katherine  Moore  Barnard,  of 
Huntsville,  Alabama,  November  20,  1883.  Mrs.  Caldwell 
is  a  lineal  descendant  of  Major  John  Barnard,  conspicuous 
in  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  of  Dr.  David  Moore,  one  of 
the  most  noted  of  Alabama's  ante-bellum  public  men. 
Three  children  were  born  as  the  fruit  of  this  union,  viz: 
Mr.  J.  Barnard,  and  Misses  Hattie  and  Katherine  Caldwell. 
The  other  immediate  surviving  members  of  his  family  are 
a  brother,  John  D.  Caldwell,  long  associated  with  him  in 
the  practice  of  law,  and  his  sister  Blanche,  Mrs.  Samuel 
H.  McNutt.  His  home  life  was  beautiful,  a  model  in  gen 
tle  ministrations  and  kindly  consideration.  In  the  bosom  of 
his  family  and  in  the  recesses  of  his  library  he  found  his 
highest  satisfaction  and  greatest  joys.  His  health  was  never 
robust,  and  he  rarely  mingled  in  social  events  save  as  these 
partook  in  a  measure  of  a  public  character.  Whenever,  at 
rare  intervals,  he  was  in  social  gatherings  at  the  homes  of 


52  BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH 

friends,  his  presence  and  conversation  evoked  gayety  and 
laughter.  His  sparkling  humor  and  bright  repartee  danced 
across  the  playful  surface  of  things  like  ripples  upon  the 
sunny  bosom  of  the  stream. 


THE    END. 


After  a  brief  illness  from  pneumonia  he  died  at  his 
residence  on  Main  Avenue  in  Knoxville,  January  18, 1909. 
It  is  safe  to  say  that  no  death  in  the  history  of  the  city  was 
ever  more  sincerely  and  universally  mourned.  Various 
and  numerous  were  the  manifestations  of  public  grief.  The 
loss  was  felt  to  be  irreparable.  From  St.  John's  Church, 
the  burial  service  being  conducted  by  the  rector,  Rev. 
Walter  C.  Whitaker,  and  the  rector  emeritus,  Dr.  Samuel 
Ringgold,  the  body  was  borne  to  Old  Gray  Cemetery  to 
sleep  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

Thus  in  the  prime  of  his  sterling  manhood,  death 
struck  low  Joshua  W.  Caldwell.  Measure  him  as  one 
will,  there  was  to  be  found  in  him  the  elements  of  well- 
rounded  character.  Uniformly  in  his  bearing  and  inter 
course,  he  presented  the  best  type  of  American  manhood. 
In  his  mental  endowments  and  scholarly  attainments,  he 
was  the  embodiment  of  rigid  intellectual  training  and  of  a 
rare  culture.  In  his  professional  experience  and  equip 
ment,  he  stood  forth  a  living  example  of  the  high-toned, 
well-equipped  jurist  and  of  the  faithful,  zealous  advocate. 
In  his  literary  productions  and  historical  researches,  he 
exhibited  talents  and  pursued  methods  which  do  credit  to 
his  State  and  section.  In  his  oratorical  ability  and  excellence, 
he  will  take  rank  with  the  most  famous  and  influential  ora 
tors  who  adorn  the  annals  of  the  State.  In  his  patriotism, 
there  was  a  breadth  and  generosity  that  extended  to  every 
foot  of  American  soil.  In  his  citizenship,  there  was  illus 
trated  a  catholicity  and  a  disinterestedness  which  were 


BIOGRAPHICAL   SKETCH  53 

always  ready  to  extend  the  helping  hand  to  any  cause  that 
meant  the  uplift  of  the  community.  In  his  church  life, 
there  was  unfailingly  the  exhibition  of  the  finest  fruits  of 
liberal  orthodoxy,  and  of  those  cardinal  virtues,  Faith, 
Hope  and  Charity. 

The  life  of  such  a  man,  for  its  perpetuation  needs  no 
memorial  of  printed  page  or  polished  stone  or  bronze 
statue.  Joshua  Caldwell  has  left  a  name  for  magnanimity 
and  for  spotless  integrity  which  will  remain  indelibly 
stamped  upon  the  City  and  the  State,  to  both  of  which  he 
gave  unstinted  love  and  loyal  service.  Such  a  life  is  a 
priceless  heritage.  It  has  dignified  and  ennobled  all  who 
have  come  within  the  sphere  of  its  influence.  His  virtues 
will  live  and  shine  in  all  the  years  to  come,  and  to  them 
ingenuous  youth  of  Tennessee  will  be  pointed  for  an 
example  worthy  of  their  manly  emulation. 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES.* 
I. 

HEN  the  war  between  the  States  began  I  was  a  very  little  boy, 
and  yet  I  think  I  remember  the  events  of  my  own  experience 
of  that  terrible  time  more  vividly  than  those  of  any  other  period 
of  my  life.  My  friends,  often  jestingly,  sometimes  seriously, 
deny  the  accuracy  of  my  statements,  but  they  do  me  injustice.  My 
experiences  were  not  important  or  startling,  but  some  of  them  were  of 
a  kind  to  interest  my  own  children,  and  it  is  for  them  that  I  am  mak 
ing  this  brief  record. 

My  father  was  a  lawyer  in  a  little  town  in  Tennessee  which  bore  the 
imposing  name  of  Athens.  He  was  of  the  Scotch-Irish  race,  a  strict 
Presbyterian,  and  a  man  with  an  undeniable  gift  of  eloquence.  His 
ancestors  for  many  generations  had  been  preachers  or  elders  of  the  Pres 
byterian  Church,  and  one  of  his  brothers  was  the  pastor  of  the  church 
of  that  denomination  at  Athens.  His  father  was  the  ruling  elder  (I  use 
the  definite  article  purposely)  of  a  rural  Presbyterian  Church  in  another 
county.  A  grand  old  man  was  my  paternal  grandfather.  His  early 
education  had  been  somewhat  neglected,  but  his  natural  abilities  were 
considerable;  and,  being  fond  of  geology,  he  became  very  learned  in  that 
science,  and  discovered  nearly  all  the  mineral  deposits  that  have  since 
been  developed  in  East  Tennessee.  As  this  section  was  then  remote 
from  the  centers  of  industry  and  trade,  and  not  touched  by  any  impor 
tant  railroad,  my  grandfather  gratified  his  scientific  tastes  without  sub 
stantial  benefits  to  himself.  Indeed,  he  devoted  to  his  favorite  pursuit 
the  greater  part  of  a  moderate  fortune,  and  in  after  years  strangers  reaped 
the  reward  of  his  labor  and  expenditures.  He  was  a  strong  anti-slavery 
man  and  an  enthusiastic  promoter  of  the  scheme  of  colonizing  the  negroes 
in  Liberia.  If  I  am  not  in  error,  there  is  a  town  in  that  struggling  repub 
lic  which  bears  his  name.  I  have  in  my  possession  many  of  his  letters, 
copies  made  with  his  own  hand,  for  he  was  a  prudent  and  cautious,  as 
well  as  copious  correspondent.  These  letters  afford  me  much  entertain 
ment,  despite  the  fact  that  they  are  mainly  devoted  to  moral  and  religious 
topics.  Sometimes  he  writes  of  politics,  but  always  from  the  "amen 
corner."  His  spelling  is  often  more  original  than  accurate,  and  he  was 

*  Written  for  the  amusement  of  his  children.  (  55) 


56  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

particularly  fond  of  writing  to  the  President  of  the  United  States.  I 
have  not  a  few  of  his  letters  addressed  to  that  august  functionary,  most 
of  them  relating  to  Liberia.  Of  course  he  was  not  a  slaveholder,  but 
upon  one  occasion  it  came  to  his  attention  that  a  negro  girl  was  to  be 
sold  under  circumstances  of  peculiar  hardship,  and  he  attended  the 
sale  and  bought  her.  I  remember  her  well.  Her  name  was  Ida  and 
she  was  of  the  race  known  as  "Guinea  nigger."  She  could  hardly 
express  the  commonest  feeling  or  fact  in  English,  and  she  was  a  marvel 
of  ugliness.  I  do  not  think  she  was  much  over  four  feet  in  stature.  She 
had  almost  no  forehead,  but  her  lips  surpassed  any  others  that  I  have  ever 
seen.  I  am  sure  that  each  of  them  was  an  inch  thick.  My  grandfather, 
being  opposed  to  slavery,  it  was  of  course  necessary  for  him  to  prove 
his  principles  by  his  treatment  of  Miss  Ida.  She  had  not  intelligence 
enough  to  be  given  her  freedom,  and  so  she  became  a  highly  privileged 
attache  of  the  family.  Most  negroes  are  good  natured  and  so  was  Miss 
Ida  at  times,  but  as  a  rule  she  was  quite  otherwise.  In  other  families 
negroes  were  somewhat  positively  corrected  for  misconduct,  but  my 
grandfather's  household  stood  in  awe  of  this  ugly  little  "Guinea  nigger," 
and  to  have  administered  to  her  the  punishment  which  she  frequently 
deserved  would  have  broken  the  good  old  man's  heart.  She  did  as  she 
pleased,  and  when  the  war  was  over  she  naturally  refused  to  yield  her 
position  of  advantage,  and  remained  the  tyrant  of  the  family  till  the  day 
of  her  death.  She  was  the  cook,  but  the  remainder  of  the  household 
were  her  servants.  I  do  not  know  what  she  died  of  unless  it  was  an 
excess  of  ugliness,  for  it  seemed  to  me  that  both  in  temper  and  in  appear 
ance  she  grew  uglier  every  year. 

My  maternal  grandfather  also  was  a  Scotch-Irishman  and  a  Pres 
byterian  Elder,  but  he  lived  in  Virginia,  and  was  admitted,  of  course,  to 
belong  to  one  of  the  first  families.  He  was  at  heart  opposed  to  slavery, 
but  he  had  many  negroes  whom  he  dared  not  set  free  because  he  knew 
the  fate  that  would  befall  them.  He  lived  in  a  beautiful  valley  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Cumberland  Mountains  far  away  from  any  city,  and 
in  my  childhood  it  was  a  delightful  adventure  to  make  the  long  over 
land  trip  to  his  home.  When  we  did  not  go  in  his  carriage,  for  we  could 
not  afford  one  of  our  own,  we  traveled  in  an  old-fashioned  red  stage 
coach  with  four  strong  horses  that  went  in  a  swinging  gallop  when  it 
was  safe  to  do  so,  and  sometimes  when  it  was  not  safe.  Then  when 
we  got  there,  the  cold  spring,  the  long  pump  logs,  the  forty  acres  of  apple 


CIVIL  WAR   REMINISCENCES  57 

and  peach  orchard,  the  hundred  cherry  trees,  the  innumerable  currant 
and  raspberry  bushes,  the  inexhaustible  pantry  of  preserves  and  jellies, 
the  partridge  nests  we  found  in  the  meadows,  the  fresh  venison  the 
hunters  brought  down  from  the  mountains,  the  petting  and  spoiling  of 
my  dear,  sweet-faced  and  loving  grandmother,  all  these  made  the  old 
home  a  veritable  paradise  to  a  boy.  In  all  the  world  there  was  no  sweet 
er,  purer  Christian  home.  The  rambling  old  house  was  redolent  of 
peace  and  love  and  happiness.  But,  alas,  it  is  gone  forever,  the  dear 
grandfather  and  grandmother  have  another  home  now;  the  "old  place" 
is  the  possession  of  a  stranger. 

From  my  Virginia  grandfather  I  inherited  a  good  old  Scripture  name. 
For  the  present  we  will  say  it  was  Jesse — though  it  was  not.  I  remem 
ber  also  that  he  gave  me  a  bright  yellow  or  claybank  pony,  and  along 
with  it  a  very  black  negro  boy  who  was  named  for  Alexander  the  Great. 
I  rode  the  pony  when  I  was  too  young,  and  have  always  suspected  that 
I  acquired  in  that  way  a  physical  peculiarity  which  afterwards  led  me 
into  personal  difficulty  with  other  boys  who  would  call  me  bow-legged. 
From  the  negro  boy  I  learned  much  that  was  bad.  He  was  my  senior 
by  several  years,. and  wonderfully  versed  in  evil  things.  He  called  me 
"Mars  Jesse,"  and  was  never  wholly  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  I  was 
his  master,  but  his  superior  age  and  cunning  made  him  in  many  things 
my  master.  I  have  never  ceased  to  regret  that  at  this  early  and  im 
pressionable  age  I  came  so  much  in  contact  with  this  vile  creature.  I 
shall  tell  you  presently  how  my  negro  and  my  pony  parted  company 
with  me. 

We  had  a  beautiful  home  in  a  grove  of  chestnut  trees  on  a  high  hill 
overlooking  the  town,  a  sort  of  acropolis  of  this  modern  Athens.  Near 
by  there  was  a  big  mill  pond  to  fish  in,  and  even  to  this  day  my  heart 
thrills  at  the  memory  of  the  beautiful  sun  perch  and  the  big  black  perch 
that  sometimes  rewarded  my  impatient  angling.  There  was  no  more 
delightful  time  than  the  early  fall  when  the  first  frost  came  and  the  big 
chestnuts  began  to  drop  from  the  tall  trees.  Life  is  well  worth  living 
to  a  boy  who  can  get  up  long  before  breakfast  on  a  crisp  November 
morning,  and  running  from  tree  to  tree,  gather  his  cap  full  of  big  round 
delicious  chestnuts.  I  have  had  some  little  successes  in  the  world,  but 
I  am  sure  I  would  give  them  all  for  one  more  November  morning  under 
the  big  chestnut  trees  of  the  home  of  my  childhood.  But  the  childhood 
days  are  gone  and  the  chestnut  trees,  too,  and  just  the  other  day  I  saw 


58  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

an  ugly  red  and  yellow  modern  house  displaying  all  its  hideousness  of 
color  and  shape,  on  the  very  spot  where  the  biggest  of  the  old  trees 
stood.  What  barbarism  to  sacrifice  such  a  tree  for  such  a  house! 

I  think  it  was  just  about  the  time  the  war  began  that  I  got  my  pony, 
perhaps  a  little  before.  My  father  was  a  member  of  the  Legislature 
that  voted  Tennessee  out  of  the  Union;  but  he  opposed  the  measure. 
Later,  however,  he  went  with  the  State  and  was  an  unsuccessful  candi 
date  for  the  Confederate  Congress. 

My  first  recollection  of  the  war  was  when  our  Athens  brass  band, 
equipped  in  brand-new  gray  uniforms,  all  be-gilt,  started  to  Virginia. 
They  played  Dixie  as  they  marched  through  the  streets,  and  some  of 
the  spectators  cheered  and  some  did  not,  for  many  of  the  people  of  East 
Tennessee  stood  firmly  by  the  Union.  Indeed,  thirty  thousand  of  them 
enlisted  in  the  Federal  Army  and  fought  well,  so  that  for  many  years 
after  the  war  we  prospered  on  bounty  and  pension  money. 

The  band  went,  and  then  after  the  first  battle  of  Manassas  it  came 
back,  but  the  leader  was  dead.  He  was  not  killed  in  the  battle,  but 
died  of  consumption,  the  exposure  of  the  campaign  hastening  his  death. 
The  first  war  event  after  that  which  I  can  now  recall  is  the  coming  of 
General  Forrest  to  Athens.  He  was  not  then  the  famous  leader  that 
he  afterwards  became,  and  if  he  had  been  I  should  have  paid  very  little 
attention  to  him,  for  my  attention  was  wholly  taken  up  by  a  boy  who  was 
with  him.  I  went  with  my  father  to  visit  the  General,  and  there  we  saw 
this  boy.  He  could  not  have  been  over  four  feet  high,  but  he  had  on 
a  full  Confederate  uniform  and  a  big  slouch  hat.  Around  his  waist  was 
a  real  belt  and  a  real  pistol  in  a  real  scabbard.  He  strutted  about  the 
room  in  the  most  lordly  manner,  and  as  he  walked  the  cup  of  my  envy 
was  filled  when  I  saw  that  he  had  two  brass  spurs.  Now  and  then  he 
was  good  enough  to  look  at  me  in  a  patronizing  way,  but  most  of  the 
time  he  whistled  softly  and  made  marks  with  a  piece  of  chalk  on  his 
pistol  scabbard.  Once  I  heard  him  swear  a  good  round  soldier's  oath. 
I  do  not  know  who  he  was.  He  vanished  soon  from  my  sight  on  a 
little  bay  pony,  but  he  was  immovably  fixed  in  my  memory.  I  am  sure 
that  in  all  my  life  no  other  person  has  so  much  impressed  me  as  this 
boy  with  the  uniform,  the  pistol  and  the  chalk. 

It  was  in  the  year  1862  that  I  saw  this  wonderful  boy.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  anything  else  of  importance  occurred. 
I  was  always  on  the  lookout  for  more  boy  soldiers,  but  none  ever  came. 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES  59 

I  remember,  however,  a  ludicrous  incident  that  occurred  about  this 
time.  The  only  railroad  in  East  Tennessee  ran  through  Athens,  and 
the  passing  trains  were  nearly  always  loaded  with  Confederate  soldiers; 
and  whenever  I  could  I  went  to  the  station  to  see  them.  I  recall  that 
the  tops  of  the  freight  cars  were  nearly  always  covered  with  soldiers. 
One  day  when  I  was  at  the  station  a  train  load  of  soldiers  was  detained 
there  for  an  hour  or  more.  The  soldiers  were  hungry,  as  Confederate 
soldiers  always  were,  and  people  of  all  colors  came  to  sell  them  bread 
and  cakes  and  pies.  Among  these  venders  of  edibles  on  this  occasion 
were  two  very  tall,  sallow  country  girls  carrying  between  them  an  old 
splint  basket  filled  with  pies.  A  soldier  bought  one  of  the  pies  and 
declared  it  excellent.  Thereupon  a  purse  was  made  up  and  the  entire 
lot  of  pies  purchased.  The  girls  generously  threw  in  the  old  basket 
and  went  away  rather  hurriedly.  The  pies  were  distributed  with  much 
jest  among  the  purchasers,  and  the  soldiers  settled  themselves  to  enjoy 
the  unwonted  delicacies.  Almost  immediately  there  was  an  outburst 
of  profanity  and  laughter.  The  top  pies  were  all  right,  but  the  lower 
ones  had  nothing  in  them  but  uncooked  lima  beans.  There  was  a  rush 
in  the  direction  in  which  the  girls  had  gone,  but  they  were  nowhere  to 
be  found.  The  soldiers  were  too  much  amused  to  be  angry.  I  after 
wards  saw  the  girls,  but  never  saw  them  sell  any  more  pies.  Evidently 
they  were  discreet  as  well  as  skillful. 

It  was  in  1863  that  Vicksburg  fell.  Many  of  our  Tennessee  sol 
diers  were  with  the  ill-fated  Pemberton,  and  upon  being  paroled  came 
home.  One  day  there  was  a  celebration  in  town,  and  a  large  crowd 
gathered  in  from  the  county.  I  was  down  on  the  square  in  the  fore 
noon  and  saw,  among  others,  a  private  soldier  who  was  riding  a  spot 
ted  mustang  pony,  and  apparently  drinking  freely.  Some  one  shouted 
"mule  meat"  as  this  man  passed,  referring  to  the  diet  of  the  Confed 
erate  soldiers  at  Vicksburg,  whereupon  he  turned  and  furiously  cursed 
the  speaker.  A  little  later  I  went  home  and  sat  on  the  front  fence  watch 
ing  the  crowds  that  passed.  Presently  along  came  the  man  on  the  spot 
ted  horse.  He  was  now  waving  a  large  new  Confederate  flag  and  was 
very  drunk.  Not  far  from  where  I  sat  he  met  a  Confederate  officer 
whom,  as  I  now  remember,  he  accused  of  having  been  one  of  those  who 
had  taunted  him  with  eating  mule  meat  at  Vicksburg.  A  hot  quarrel 
ensued  with  much  noise  and  swearing,  and  I  was  called  up  to  the  house, 
where  I  posted  myself  at  a  window  to  watch  the  proceedings.  I  think 


60  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

the  officer  was  sober,  while  the  soldier  was  certainly  drunk.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  two  disputants,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  other  persons, 
moved  from  the  street  into  a  vacant  lot,  of  which  I  had  a  plain  view  from 
my  window.  The  officer,  accompanied  by  one  man,  walked  a  few  paces 
ahead  of  the  private.  Presently  they  all  stopped  and  the  disputants 
faced  each  other.  They  were  about  a  hundred  yards  from  me  and  in 
plain  view.  I  saw  instantly  now  that  it  was  to  be  a  duel.  As  they  raised 
their  pistols  I  involuntarily  covered  my  face  with  my  hands.  There 
were  two  reports,  close  together,  and  when  I  looked  again  the  officer 
was  walking  coolly  away,  while  a  great  crowd  was  surging  around  the 
place  where  the  soldier  had  stood.  A  few  minutes  later  a  number  of 
men  came  along  the  street  carrying  the  poor  drunken  soldier.  Fasci 
nated  by  the  horrible  thing,  I  ran  down  to  the  street,  but  only  to  turn 
and  run  back  again,  wild  with  terror,  for  while  I  stood  staring  over  the 
fence  the  man  with  horrible  meanings  and  inarticulate  mutterings,  sound 
ing  like  oaths,  died,  and  they  laid  him  almost  at  my  feet.  It  was  my 
first  sight  of  death  and  my  first  knowledge  of  what  dueling  meant.  For 
many  days  and  nights  I  thought  and  dreamed  only  of  this  cruel  thing. 
I  saw  the  man  die  again  and  again,  and  was  forever  hearing  his  dying 
groans  and  drunken  mutterings.  This  must  have  occurred  in  August 
or  September,  1863.  And  now  I  began  to  see  that  things  were  going 
badly.  My  Tennessee  grandfather  had  remained  a  Union  man,  while, 
as  I  have  said,  my  father  went  with  the  South.  I  heard  them  talking 
at  home  about  Burnside,  a  yankee  General,  as  we  called  him.  Before 
long  I  heard  that  General  Burnside  was  at  Knoxville,  the  metropolis 
of  East  Tennessee,  fifty  miles  east  of  Athens.  The  negroes,  of  whom 
my  mother  owned  a  few,  were  much  excited  and  were  frequently  out 
of  quarters  at  night  in  bold  disregard  of  the  law  and  defiance  of  the  "pat- 
teroll."  I  know  now  that  Burnside  came  to  Knoxville  in  September, 
1863;  that  about  two  months  later  the  great  battle  of  Chickamauga 
was  fought  at  Chattanooga,  fifty  miles  west  of  Athens.  Soon  after  that 
battle,  General  Longstreet,  whose  corps  had  been  detached  from  Gen 
eral  Lee's  army  in  Virginia  and  sent  to  General  Bragg  at  Chattanooga, 
passed  Athens  on  his  way  to  Knoxville;  but  I  do  not  remember  to  have 
seen  anything  of  his  army.  I  remember,  however,  that  one  Novem 
ber  afternoon  I  went  home  after  a  ride  in  company  with  my  wicked 
mentor  Alec,  and  found  everything  in  confusion.  Old  Frank,  my 
father's  big  bay  horse,  stood  saddled  before  the  door.  Inside  I  found 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES  6l 

my  mother  in  tears,  but  busily  packing  a  pair  of  saddle  bags.  My  father 
was  sorting  papers  and  superintending  the  arrangement  of  his  law  library 
and  office  furniture,  which  had  just  been  brought  up  from  his  office. 
Then  it  was  that  I  first  heard  of  General  Sherman.  He  was  following 
Longstreet  from  Chattanooga  to  Knoxville,  where  the  Confederate 
General  was  then  besieging  General  Burnside.  In  a  few  minutes  a 
messenger  came  hurrying  up  from  town  and  my  father,  receiving  our 
tearful  farewells,  mounted  and  rode  away  in  hot  haste.  He  was  hardly 
out  of  sight  when  far  away  on  the  west  we  saw  Sherman's  advance  guard. 
I  do  not  know  how  many  men  General  Sherman  had,  but  his  army  was 
large  enough  to  fill  my  eyes  and  my  imagination,  too.  By  nightfall  the 
town  and  its  environs  were  brilliant  with  camp  fires.  Wherever  one 
turned  hundreds  of  fires  met  the  eye.  I  need  not  say  that  we  were  ex 
cessively  frightened.  My  mother  and  I  were  alone  with  the  slaves  until 
the  coming  of  a  lady  friend,  and  this  addition  to  our  numbers  did  not 
greatly  aid  us  to  a  sense  of  security.  We  sent  our  negro  man  Ned,  who 
had  all  the  good  qualities  of  his  own  race,  and  of  all  other  races,  for  that 
matter,  to  one  of  our  neighbors,  who  was  a  Union  man,  with  a  request 
to  secure  a  guard  for  us.  Ned  came  back  bringing  a  big  man  in  a  Cap 
tain's  uniform.  The  Captain  was  friendly  enough,  but  made  us  aware 
of  the  fact  that  he  knew  we  were  rebels.  We  made  much  of  the  Cap 
tain,  as  was  natural  under  the  circumstances,  and  I  remember  distinctly 
the  commingling  of  gratitude  and  fear  in  my  own  feeling  for  him. 

Our  means  of  subsistence,  now  that  my  father  was  gone,  consisted 
mainly  of  the  contents  of  our  smoke-house,  which  stood  in  the  rear  of 
the  dwelling.  The  weather  had  been  cold  enough  for  killing  hogs  and 
the  meat  of  such  swine  as  we  had  possessed  was  salted  away  in  the  smoke 
house. 

Soon  after  supper,  while  the  Captain  and  I  were  standing  on  the 
front  porch  looking  out  over  the  sea  of  camp  fires  that  stretched  away 
on  every  hand,  a  little  negro  girl  came  running  up  to  us  very  much  fright 
ened  and  informed  us  that  "Dey  wuz  somebody  done  broke  into  de 
'moke-house."  The  Captain  rushed  into  the  house,  seized  his  pistol 
and  ran  toward  the  smoke-house.  I  followed  closely.  As  we  passed 
the  party  of  negroes  huddled  near  the  front  of  the  smoke-house  we  heard 
the  sounds  of  rapid  retreat  in  the  rear  of  the  structure.  The  Captain 
fired  into  the  air  and  we  ran  around  the  house.  Two  or  three  indis 
tinct  figures  were  vanishing  in  the  darkness.  The  Captain  tried  one 


62 


CIVIL   WAR   REMINISCENCES 


more  shot  in  the  air,  and  then  when  a  candle  was  brought  we  entered 
the  smoke-house.  Alas  for  our  hopes!  The  rafters  had  been  garnished 
with  many  sides  and  hams  and  shoulders,  but  now  only  one  shoulder 
and  one  side  remained.  The  marauders  had  dug  under  the  back  foun 
dation  of  the  smoke-house,  and  thus  it  was  that  for  many  weeks  we  lived 
almost  exclusively  on  corn  batter  cakes. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  it  was  before  Sherman's  army  returned  from 
Knoxville.  I  could  look  into  the  histories  and  find  the  time,  but  I  am 
trying  to  write  only  my  own  recollections.  I  know  that  when  the  army 
reached  Athens  again  my  mother  had  a  very  mortifying  experience. 
There  was  one  of  Sherman's  Generals  who  was  a  distant  kinsman  of 
hers,  and  on  returning  to  Athens  this  General  sent  her  word  that  he 
would  pay  her  a  visit.  You  must  know  that  by  this  time  the  Southern 
people  had  very  little  to  wear,  and  at  our  house  we  had  almost  nothing 
to  eat.  My  mother's  best  dress  at  this  particular  time  was  of  checked 
cotton  goods,  such  as  had  been  the  common  wear  of  slave  women  before 
the  war.  Arrayed  in  this  she  stood  upon  the  veranda  to  receive  her 
distinguished  kinsman.  The  General  had  never  seen  her  before,  and 
I  recall  with  sympathy  even  at  this  time  her  embarrassment  as  he  halted 
his  suite  and  asked  her  if  the  lady  of  the  house  could  be  seen.  The 
General  was  mightily  embarrassed  in  return  when  she  declared  herself 
the  lady  in  question,  and  while  he  was  very  cordial  and  called  her  cousin 
it  was  some  time  before  they  could  enjoy  a  genuine  laugh  over  the  mis 
understanding.  The  General  could  not  remain  with  us  himself,  but  sent 
us  two  young  soldiers,  one  of  whom  was  a  corporal.  I  remember  that 
his  name  was  Jim,  and  that  in  the  two  or  three  days  he  was  our  guard 
we  became  great  friends.  General  Sherman  marched  away  taking  my 
friend  Jim  with  him,  and  then  our  hard  times  began  in  earnest.  Sher 
man's  army  was  not  all  that  went  away,  for  on  the  morning  after  its 
departure  our  own  Ned  came  bright  and  early  to  my  mother's  door  to 
tell  her,  as  he  put  it:  "The  other  niggers  is  all  run  away." 

It  was  too  true.  They  had  gone,  taking  everything  they  could  carry 
with  them.  My  boy  Alec  made  one  of  the  party,  and  my  pony  also. 
To  this  day  we  have  never  seen  nor  heard  of  any  of  our  slaves.  We  do 
not  know  where  they  went  nor  what  became  of  them.  They  took  our 
wagon  and  my  pony,  and  I  know  not  what  else,  and  disappeared  utterly. 

This  was  the  corn  batter  cake  time.  We  had  corn  cakes  week  after 
week  three  times  a  day,  and  frequently  we  had  nothing  else.  We  made 


CIVIL  WAR   REMINISCENCES  63 

coffee  of  dried  sweet  potatoes  and  sweetened  it  with  sorghum,  which  at 
this  time  was  famous  in  the  South  as  "long  sweetnin',"  sugar  being 
"short  sweetnin'."  We  had  one  shoulder  of  meat  left,  and  this  we  kept 
carefully  for  a  rainy  day.  Together  with  half  a  bushel  of  sweet  pota 
toes,  it  formed  our  reserve  supply,  all  of  which  was  stored  in  a  box  under 
the  sofa  in  the  parlor,  an  apartment  which  had  become  otherwise  wholly 
superfluous  and  was  kept  carefully  locked  at  night.  An  incident  which 
occurred  at  this  time  and  which  is  indelibly  impressed  on  my  memory, 
will  show  to  what  straits  we  were  reduced. 

When  our  slaves  ran  away  we  secured  from  a  friend  the  services  of 
a  colored  woman  and  her  son,  the  last  being  about  seven  or  eight  years 
old.  One  day  in  the  batter  cake  period  we  were  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  a  chicken  and  some  "middlin"  meat.  The  family  was  thus  able 
to  enjoy  the  unspeakable  luxury  of  fried  chicken.  It  so  happened  that 
I,  being  ignorant  of  the  important  event  thus  occurring  at  home,  was 
late  for  dinner.  My  mother  saved  me  that  piece  of  the  chicken  which 
contains  the  breast  bone.  It  was  placed  on  the  table,  the  sole  tenant  of 
the  big  dish  which  I  had  not  seen  before  in  many  days.  As  children 
often  do,  I  determined  to  save  the  chicken  till  the  last.  That  is  to  say, 
I  ate  my  corn  cakes  first.  The  little  negro  boy  was  waiting  on  me  while 
his  mother  was  in  the  kitchen.  The  boy  behaved  himself  with  great 
propriety  until  I  was  in  the  very  act  of  helping  myself  to  the  piece  of 
chicken,  and  then,  before  my  astonished  and  indignant  eyes,  and  from 
under  my  outstretched  arm,  he  seized  the  chicken  with  his  hand  and 
like  a  ravening  animal  that  he  was,  devoured  it  in  a  twinkling  and  then 
began  to  cry.  I  sprang  to  my  feet  with  the  impulse  to  strike  the  boy 
who  had  both  cruelly  and  impudently,  as  I  construed  it,  robbed  me,  but 
child  as  I  was,  the  humor  of  the  proceeding  overcame  me  and  I  broke 
into  a  loud  laugh.  I  have  rarely  been  so  disappointed  as  when  I  lost 
the  fried  chicken;  nor  have  I  ever  seen  anything  so  ludicrous  and  yet 
pitiful  as  the  boy  gnawing  the  chicken  like  a  wild  beast  and  at  the  same 
time  blubbering  in  anticipation  of  punishment.  My  feelings  were  a 
little  modified  when  I  learned  that  my  mother's  sense  of  equity  had  pre 
viously  allotted  him  a  drumstick,  so  that  he  had  two  pieces  while  I  had 
none.  It  was  for  that  reason  that  my  serenity  was  not  disturbed  when 
half  an  hour  later  his  mother,  having  heard  of  the  tragic  occurrence, 
took  him  behind  the  kitchen  and  gave  him  a  most  vigorous  thrashing 
with  an  old  bridle  rein. 


64  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

Athens  now  became  part  of  the  debatable  territory.  Sometimes  the 
Confederates  held  it  and  sometimes  the  Federals.  At  one  time  there 
was  a  Federal  garrison  in  the  courthouse,  and  one  day  while  we  were 
at  dinner  a  company  of  ragged  Confederate  cavalrymen  charged  into 
the  square  surrounding  the  temple  of  justice.  We  heard  the  rapid  firing 
and  ran  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  We  were  nearly  half  a  mile 
from  the  square  and  high  above  it.  Presently  we  heard  a  queer,  sharp 
singing  sound  and  then  another  like  it,  and  then  a  loud  rap  on  the  side 
of  the  house.  By  this  time  we  discovered  that  we  were  in  the  line  of 
fire  of  the  Confederates  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  courthouse,  and  we 
made  haste  to  get  under  cover.  Ere  long  we  were  joined  by  a  number 
of  our  neighbors  who  were  Union  men  and  were  keeping  out  of  the  way 
of  the  Confederates.  The  zip,  zip  of  the  big  musket  balls  continued 
until  the  Confederates  were  repulsed.  Then  I  went  down  town  with 
some  of  our  friends  and  had  an  attack  of  the  shivers.  The  first  thing 
we  saw  in  the  square  was  a  huddle  of  old  rags  and  an  old  slouch  hat. 
When  we  went  up  to  this  we  found  a  dead  Confederate  soldier.  And 
to  be  convinced  that  there  was  no  romance  in  war  it  was  necessary  only 
to  look  at  the  poor  fellow.  I  have  in  these  later  days  seen  many  tramps 
and  beggars;  duty  has  now  and  then  called  me  to  the  abode  of  the 
most  abject  and  squalid  poverty;  but  never  have  I  seen  a  human  being 
so  ill  clad,  so  utterly  unwashed  in  person  and  in  dress  as  this  dead  sol 
dier.  As  we  stood  looking  at  him,  a  musket  was  fired  from  the  court 
house  and  our  party  retreated  with  much  more  rapidity  than  dignity. 

A  school  was  started  in  our  neighborhood,  to  which  were  sent  the 
children  of  most  of  the  Southern  sympathizers  of  the  town.  I  went,  of 
course,  and  recall  now  the  sense  of  pride  that  I  experienced  when  I  was 
considered  worthy  of  promotion  to  McGuffey's  Third  Reader. 

We  were  not  very  lonely  at  home,  for  we  had  many  friends  and  they 
made  our  house  a  gathering  place,  so  that  not  infrequently  the  corn 
cakes  and  the  potato  coffee  ran  painfully  low.  We  had  one  young  lady 
friend  of  great  vivacity  and  strongly  inclined  to  elocution.  Her  favor 
ite  recitation  was  "Lord  Ullin's  Daughter,"  which,  as  I  now  recall,  was 
one  of  many  gems  of  poesy  collected  in  the  McGuffey  Readers.  I  do 
not  think  I  have  ever  read  the  poem,  but  in  the  years  1863  and  1864  I 
heard  this  lady  recite  it  so  much,  and  I  doubt  not,  so  badly,  that  it  was 
not  until  recently  that  I  forgot  any  part  of  it. 

I  went  home  from  school  one  afternoon  and  found  two  big  army 


CIVIL   WAR  REMINISCENCES  65 

wagons  at  the  front  door.  They  were  loaded  with  my  father's  books, 
and  I  did  not  fully  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  proceeding,  even  when 
I  was  told  that  the  weazened  little  old  man  in  charge  was  a  confiscation 
agent.  I  heard  his  men  call  him  Mr.  Homer,  which  was  his  real  name, 
for  I  knew  his  sons  in  after  years,  and  somehow  or  other  he  got  into  the 
place  in  my  mental  storehouse  where  I  put  the  Greek  Homer;  and  I  can 
not  for  my  life  keep  from  picturing  the  author  of  the  Iliad  (if  there  was 
an  author)  as  this  little  old  confiscation  agent  gone  blind. 

I  do  not  know  whether  it  was  because  the  corn  cakes  and  the  potato 
coffee  were  giving  out  entirely  and  we  were  likely  to  become  objects 
of  public  charity,  or  for  some  other  reason,  that  in  the  spring  of  1864 
we  were  suddenly  ordered  out  of  the  house  and  out  of  the  Federal  lines. 
There  was  a  considerable  party  of  us.  We  went  by  rail  to  Knoxville, 
and  the  adventure  of  riding  on  the  cars  almost  consoled  me  for  the  loss 
of  the  home  which  I  have  never  entered  since  that  day.  At  Knoxville 
we  were  told  by  our  friends  that  at  the  station,  sixteen  miles  away,  where 
the  Union  outposts  were,  we  should  all  be  searched  and  deprived  of  our 
valuables.  Now,  the  valuables  possessed  by  my  mother  and  myself 
were  my  father's  watch  and  a  ten  dollar  gold  piece.  These  were  bestowed 
about  my  person  and  the  most  obtuse  observer  would  have  had  no  dif 
ficulty  in  discovering  them,  for  I  am  sure  that  I  did  not  at  any  time  allow 
thirty  consecutive  seconds  to  elapse  without  feeling  to  see  whether  I  had 
lost  them.  When  we  came  to  the  searching  place,  which  was  a  crazy 
old  wooden  house,  which  in  this  year  of  grace  1896  is  still  there,  and 
apparently  not  more  crazy  than  it  was  thirty-two  years  ago,  the  ladies 
were  met  by  two  very  unprepossessing  persons  of  their  own  sex,  and 
conducted  to  the  interior  to  be  searched.  One  of  these  searching  ladies 
remarked  as  she  disappeared  that  she  would  "search  that  young  'un  in 
a  minit."  The  offensive  term  "young  'un"  indicated  myself  and  caused 
me  no  little  indignation.  The  other  boys  of  the  party  were  searched 
by  men,  and  I  mentally  determined  to  leave  nothing  untried  to  escape 
the  threatened  indignity  and  to  save  my  valuables.  And  so  when  the 
ugly  woman  again  appeared  I  fled.  The  woman  made  some  hasty 
steps  in  pursuit,  but  soon  gave  out  and  called  on  some  lounging  soldiers 
to  seize  me.  I  recollect  that  the  soldiers  only  laughed  at  her  and  made 
some  remarks  which  were  not  elegant,  and  from  which  I  inferred  that 
the  lady  was  not  very  highly  esteemed  by  them. 

Having  saved  the  watch  and  the  money  I  awaited  the  coming  of  our 
party  and  got  into  the  ambulance  with  my  mother. 


66  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

This  ambulance  was  rather  a  luxurious  vehicle.  It  was  brand  new, 
with  shining  curtains  and  soft  leather  cushions.  A  very  black  man  with 
a  new  uniform  and  very  bright  buttons  was  the  driver,  and  displayed 
great  and  just  pride  in  the  two  big  black  mules  that  carried  us  along  at 
swinging  trot. 

I  asked  the  driver  where  we  should  meet  the  Confederate  flag  of 
truce  which  we  understood  had  been  sent  to  receive  us.  He  replied  that 
he  reckoned  it  would  be  at  "Painter  Springs."  And  sure  enough  at 
Panther  Springs  we  met  our  friends,  beholding  them  with  much  embar 
rassment  and  dismay.  I  had  supposed  that  we  were  to  go  from  one 
ambulance  to  another  equally  as  good.  When  the  black  driver  said 
with  a  grin,  "Yanner  come  de  Rebel  ambilance,"  I  stood  up  to  look  for 
them.  There  they  were  sure  enough.  I  looked  in  open-eyed  amaze 
ment  while  the  driver  chuckled  and  grinned.  The  first  of  the  Confed 
erate  "ambulances"  may  be  described  as  representative.  It  was  what 
we  called  in  East  Tennessee  before  the  war  a  "mover's  wagon."  It 
was  partly  covered  with  an  old  mildewed  and  muddy  tilt  which  was  too 
short,  and  drooped  and  flapped  between  the  first  two  hoops.  It  was 
drawn  by  a  big  bony  horse  and  a  little  bony  horse,  the  last  lacking  at 
least  a  foot  of  the  stature  of  the  associate.  Both  horses  appeared  to  be 
in  the  last  stages  of  starvation,  and  both  carried  their  heads  as  nearly 
between  their  legs  as  possible.  The  harness  was  tied  in  many  places 
with  rags  and  leather  straps,  the  first  to  protect  the  bones  of  the  poor 
beasts  and  the  last  to  hold  the  decaying  contrivances  together. 

Beside  the  little  horse  walked  a  long,  thin  man  expectorating  with 
absolute  and  incessant  regularity.  He  had  an  old  slouch  hat,  no  coat 
and  but  a  single  yarn  suspender  or  "gallus,"  and  when  I  became  inti 
mate  with  him,  I  found  that  this  "gallus"  was  fastened  at  each  end 
with  a  long  thorn.  There  was  a  brindled  cur  dog  under  the  wagon, 
keeping  company  with  the  tar  bucket  that  swung  from  the  coupling 
pole. 

With  the  usual  courtesies,  I  suppose,  we  were  transferred  to  the  cus 
tody  of  our  friends.  My  particular  party  was  consigned  to  the  front 
wagon.  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  it  had  no  springs  and  no  cush 
ioned  seats.  We  sat  on  straw  in  the  wagon  bed,  and  bumped  along  at  a 
rate  hardly  exceeding  two  miles  an  hour.  It  did  not  take  me  long  to 
tire  of  this,  and  so  I  craved  and  received  permission  to  get  out  and  walk 
with  the  driver.  I  do  not  think  it  ever  occurred  to  the  driver  to  get  into 


CIVIL   WAR  REMINISCENCES  67 

the  wagon,  indeed  I  do  not  think  it  would  have  been  possible  for  him  to 
do  so  without  doubling  himself  up. 

We  walked  and  talked  together  many  miles  during  the  succeeding 
days  of  travel.  I  have  tried  to  remember  something  that  we  said  or  that 
we  talked  about,  but  cannot.  I  only  remember  in  a  general  way  that  we 
reached  terms  of  considerable  intimacy,  that  there  was  a  genuine  intellect 
ual  fellowship  and  equality  between  us,  and  that  it  became  one  of  my 
chief  ambitions  to  wear  a  single  suspender  fastened  with  thorns. 

At  last  we  got  to  Bristol  on  the  Virginia  border,  where  I  bade  farewell 
to  my  long  friend  the  driver,  whom  I  have  never  seen  since  that  day.  My 
mother  having  heard  that  my  father  was  with  General  Early's  army  in 
the  Valley  of  Virginia,  we  went  by  train  to  Lynchburg.  There  we  found 
no  trace  of  my  father  and  could  hear  nothing  of  him.  The  letters  inform 
ing  him  of  our  expulsion  had  not  yet  reached  him.  Not  knowing  where 
else  to  go,  we  went  back  to  Abingdon,  where  some  relations  kindly  received 
us. 

It  was  great  good  fortune  for  us,  when  a  few  weeks  later  my  father's 
command  was  ordered  to  Abingdon.  He  was  able  to  secure  for  us  many 
comforts  which  we  had  theretofore  sadly  missed.  Indeed,  we  were  very 
close  to  starvation  more  than  once.  On  our  trip  to  Lynchburg  and  return 
I  had  only  one  meal  in  two  days,  and  that  consisted  exclusively  of  a  big 
hot,  buttered  roll.  I  have  no  hesitancy  in  saying  that  it  was  by  long  odds 
the  best  meal  I  ever  ate.  That  unforgotten  roll  was  given  me  at  the  old 
mountain  house.  The  house  is  still  standing,  I  think,  and  the  place  is 
now  known  as  Blue  Ridge  Springs. 

We  were  at  Abingdon  several  months,  and  then  we  went  on  a  visit  to 
a  great  aunt  of  my  mother's  in  Henry  County,  Eastern  Virginia.  We 
went  first  to  Lynchburg,  where  I  saw  the  old  Nouval  House,  which  I 
regarded  as  the  finest  hotel  in  the  world.  Thence  we  went  by  the  deliber 
ate  Confederate  trains  to  Burkeville  Junction,  where  we  saw  long  and 
melancholy  rows  of  sheds  called  hospitals,  and  where  we  heard  some  faint 
and  muffled  rumblings  which  they  told  us  were  the  reports  of  the  big  guns 
at  Petersburg.  From  Burkeville  we  rode  to  Danville  in  a  freight  car, 
riding  part  of  the  way  over  a  strap  road — that  is,  a  railroad  without  iron 
rails,  but  with  wooden  sleepers  laid  like  rails  and  protected  for  about  half 
their  width  on  top,  with  iron  straps  or  bars.  It  was  on  such  roads  as 
this  that  the  snake  heads  so  frequently  wrought  havoc.  Fortunately 
we  encountered  no  snake  heads.  At  Danville  we  took  a  stage  and  went 
some  twenty  miles  to  the  great  aunt's  house. 


68  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

I  was  not  old  enough  to  be  much  interested  in  the  country,  but  cer 
tainly  it  was  very  different  from  the  mountains  and  ridges  of  East  Ten 
nessee.  It  was  in  the  flat  lands  where  tobacco  was  almost  the  only  crop. 

My  aunt's  home  was  an  old-fashioned  brick  house  in  a  big  grove. 
Behind  it  was  a  village  of  negro  cabins.  I  am  distressed  because  I  can 
not  remember  more  of  this  visit.  I  can  recall  my  aunt  as  an  old  and  not 
very  tall  lady  who  carried  a  staff  of  ebony  with  an  ivory  top.  The  staff 
was  a  little  taller  than  my  aunt.  Then  there  were  my  cousins,  her  grand 
daughters,  three  of  four  very  active  and  bright  girls.  The  first  thing 
that  impressed  me  about  them  was  that  they  all  made  their  a's  very 
broad.  And  I  may  say  in  passing  that  I  have  never  heard  the  Virginia 
broad  a  elsewhere  without  a  suspicion  of  affectation.  These  young  cous 
ins  were  all  great  riders,  and,  as  a  pony  was  furnished  me,  I  rode  much 
with  them,  having  no  trouble,  except  with  the  gates.  Wherever  we  went 
we  were  sure  to  find  gates,  and  I  remember  falling  off,  at  least  once,  in 
trying  to  open  one  of  these  gates. 

A  few  incidents  of  this  visit  I  remember  distinctly.  One  of  the  most 
pleasant  of  these  is  the  sorghum  making.  My  aunt  had  a  great  many 
slaves,  and  the  sorghum  making  was  a  notable  event  with  them.  Out 
in  front  of  the  slave  quarters  there  were  two  long  parallel  rows  of  big  iron 
kettles,  and  it  was  in  these  that  the  sorghum  was  boiled.  When  the  fires 
were  once  lighted,  they  were  kept  going  until  the  sorghum  was  made. 
At  night  the  scene  was  strikingly  picturesque.  The  great  fires,  con 
stantly  fed  with  fresh  fuel,  had  the  most  beautiful  effect,  and  at  the  same 
time  gave  me  a  creepy  sensation.  The  negroes  were  constantly  flitting 
among  them,  and  the  picture  thus  made  was  not  unlike  the  idea  of  the 
bad  place  that  I  had  gotten  from  the  negroes  at  home,  and  from  some 
of  the  fervent  white  preachers  whom  I  had  heard.  My  childish  imag 
ination  easily  made  of  the  fires  the  flames  of  everlasting  torment;  the 
kettles  were  filled  with  boiling  sinners,  and  the  negroes  with  their  shining 
faces  and  grotesque  garb  and  actions,  were  the  fiends  torturing  the  con 
demned.  This  was  the  negro  notion  of  hell,  and  is  even  now  their  notion. 
However,  when  I  ventured  near  the  scene,  I  saw  the  well-known  faces, 
heard  the  familiar  voices  and  received  all  sorts  of  kindly  attentions,  and 
enjoyed  myself  as  much  as  my  sable  friends.  The  pleasantest  part  of 
all  was  the  singing.  You  know  that  the  negroes  all  have  rich,  round 
voices,  and  that  in  the  singular  minor  key  in  which  all  their  music  is  set, 
they  are  the  sweetest  singers  in  the  world  Imagine,  now,  the  great  roar- 


CIVIL   WAR  REMINISCENCES  69 

ing  fires  lighting  up  the  darkness  of  the  night  for  many  yards  around, 
the  negroes  running  to  and  fro,  stirring  and  ladling,  laughing,  shouting, 
and  "every  now  and  then,"  as  they  say  in  the  country,  breaking  out  into 
one  of  the  old  plantation  melodies.  One  voice  would  raise  the  tune  and 
then  hundreds  of  others  would  join  in  it.  I  am  sure  I  never  heard  sweeter 
music,  and  I  am  sure,  also,  much  as  I  dislike  the  institution  of  slavery, 
that  there  was  never  on  earth  a  more  contented  lot  of  people  than  those 
negroes  at  sorghum  making  time. 

Occasionally  some  one  would  begin  to  "pat  Juba,"  and  for  ten  minutes 
the  clapping  of  hands  and  patting  of  knees,  all  in  perfect  time,  was  almost 
deafening.  I  was  completely  fascinated  by  this  wonderful  "Juba'  music 
and  tried  to  join  in  it,  but  the  art  was  beyond  me.  My  room  overlooked 
the  sorghum  yard,  and  long  after  I  had  been,  almost  by  force,  put  into 
bed,  I  lay  awake  listening  to  the  singing  and  the  patting. 

That  was  a  glorious  time  which  I  shall  never  forget.  I  remember, 
also,  that  on  one  occasion  I  was  allowed  to  eat  supper  with  one  of  my 
most  intimate  colored  friends  in  his  own  cabin;  and  then  for  the  first  time 
I  partook  of  the  delights  of  that  incomparable  dish,  "possum  and  sweet 
'taters."  It  is  a  dish  of  much  richness,  too  much  indeed  for  the  ordinary 
palate  and  digestion;  but  for  the  negro,  it  is  the  most  delectable  of  all. 
And  then  you  know  a  boy's  appetite  is  equal  to  almost  anything.  I  recall 
the  crisp  browned  possum,  and  the  big  brown  yams  all  immersed  in  a 
little  lake  of  the  rich  oil  of  which  the  "possum"  is  principally  composed. 
I  am  sure  that  the  feast  was  attended  by  no  injurious  results,  because  I 
was  forever  begging  to  go  again,  and  grieving  much  because  I  was  refused. 
My  parents  did  not  approve  of  it. 

Another  incident  that  I  remember  is,  that  there  came  to  my  aunt's 
during  our  stay,  a  very  aristocratic  and  peculiar  lady,  who  was  a  connec 
tion  of  the  family.  I  shall  call  her  Mrs.  S.  This  lady  was  a  daughter 
of  one  of  the  Presidents  of  the  United  States.  Her  husband  had  filled 
some  important  office  abroad,  and  to  the  stateliness  and  stiffness  which 
must  have  been  natural  to  her  she  added  a  good  many  peculiarities  that 
she  had  acquired  in  Europe.  She  was  not  ill-natured,  far  from  it;  but 
she  completely  over-awed  me,  and  I  shunned  her,  and  am  afraid  that  my 
conduct  frequently  fell  below  her  standard.  One  of  her  peculiarities 
gave  my  aunt  no  little  distress  and  caused  me  so  much  amusement  that 
I  got  into  trouble  more  than  once  on  account  of  it.  Like  many  other 
ladies,  she  was  addicted  to  pets,  and  her  favorite  was  a  little  black  terrier 


7O  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

dog.  Her  affection  for  this  favored  animal  was  carried  so  far  that  she 
would  bring  him  to  the  table  and  put  him  on  it  close  beside  her  plate. 
As  I  remember  he  was,  like  most  favorites,  very  selfish  and  sometimes 
exacting  and  ill-natured. 

My  aunt  held  all  dogs  in  abhorrence,  and  her  conduct  upon  the  first 
appearance  of  the  terrier  upon  the  table  caused  me  to  laugh  out-right, 
and  this  impropriety  brought  severe  punishment  upon  me.  The  good 
old  lady,  with  her  old-fashioned  notions  of  hospitality  and  etiquette,  made 
heroic  efforts  to  conceal  her  disapproval,  and  I  do  not  think  that  Mrs.  S. 
ever  dreamed  that  she  was  very  severely  testing  the  courtesy  of  her  hostess. 

I  was  jealous  of  the  dog,  for  Mrs.  S.  gave  him  much  more  attention 
than  my  parents  thought  it  proper  to  bestow  on  me.  I  was  vastly  amused 
one  day  as  I  sat  with  my  aunt  looking  at  some  pictures.  The  terrier  had 
in  some  way  escaped  from  his  mistress  and  wandered  into  the  hall  where 
we  were  sitting.  As  soon  as  he  came  in  reach  my  aunt  seized  her  ebony 
staff,  and  exclaiming: "Ah,  you  nasty  little  brute, "gave  him  a  sharp  rap. 
The  astonished  favorite  fled  with  loud  and  continued  waitings  and  my 
aunt  was  in  great  apprehension  for  some  days,  lest  Mrs.  S.  should  learn 
of  her  conduct  and  be  offended. 

We  remained  with  our  kins-people  till  nearly  all  the  chestnuts  were 
gone,  as  I  now  recall.  From  that  day  to  this  I  have  never  seen  one  of  the 
household.  But  in  the  year  1894  I  bought  at  Brunswick,  Georgia,  a 
copy  of  the  "Ladies  Home  Journal."  Your  mother  and  I  had  seen  some 
very  exclusive  people  at  the  Oglethorpe  Hotel,  and  I  had  been  reminded 
of  Mrs.  S.  and  had  been  telling  what  I  have  written  here  about  her.  Look 
ing  over  the  Home  Journal  as  the  train  was  leaving  Brunswick,  I  saw  an 
article  on  the  "Old  Ladies  Home,"  established  at  Washington,  by  Mr. 
Corcoran.  The  article  was  illustrated,  and  among  the  illustrations  was 
a  portrait  of  this  very  Mrs.  S.  It  seems  that  she  had  lost  her  fortune 
and  was  compelled  to  rely  on  the  charity  of  the  great  philanthropist  who 
did  so  much  for  Southern  women.  No  doubt  she  was  a  most  excellent 
lady,  and  I  have  not  intended  to  speak  disparagingly  of  her,  but  only  to 
relate  what  I  saw  of  her. 

From  Eastern  Virginia  we  returned  to  Bristol  on  the  line  between 
Tennessee  and  Virginia.  Thence  we  came  to  Jonesboro,  Tennessee, 
in  December,  1864.  My  father  was  still  attached  to  the  brigade  of  Gen 
eral  John  C.  Vaughan. 

Not  long  before  Christmas,  General  Stoneman  of  the  Federal  Army 


CIVIL   WAR  REMINISCENCES  Jl 

made  a  raid  into  upper  East  Tennessee  and  Southwestern  Virginia.  His 
force  was  much  larger  than  General  Vaughan's,  and  we  made  haste  to 
retreat  as  soon  as  we  heard  of  his  coming.  Unfortunately  we  were  some 
what  late.  Bristol  is  some  thirty  miles  from  Jonesboro,  with  which  it  was 
then  connected  by  a  much  worn  and  unsafe  railroad.  Stoneman,  when 
we  first  heard  of  him,  was  approaching  Bristol  from  the  Northwest,  and 
was  nearer  that  point  than  we  were.  A  train  of  flat  cars  and  coaches  was 
hastily  made  up,  and  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  started  for 
Bristol.  The  flat  cars  were  loaded  with  munitions  of  war,  and  the  coaches 
with  a  mixed  company  of  soldiers,  women  and  children.  My  father 
accompanied  us.  It  was  almost  daylight  when  we  reached  the  suburbs 
of  Bristol.  There  the  train  was  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  then  moved 
very  slowly  on.  I  was  half  awake  and  half  asleep  when  a  sudden  stop 
of  the  train  threw  me  against  the  seat  in  front.  Instantly  there  was  a 
sound  of  firing  and  a  loud  voice  cried:  "Come  out  of  there,  you  rebels." 

I  remember  distinctly  that  my  father  was  wearing  a  big  blue  over 
coat  that  had  belonged  to  a  Federal  soldier.  We  had  been  told  that  the 
Federal  authorities  had  issued  an  order  that  all  Confederates  captured 
while  wearing  these  overcoats  should  be  shot.  This  was  because  it  was 
impossible  to  distinguish  the  Confederate  soldiers,  thus  clad,  from  their 
own  men.  I  saw  my  father  hurriedly  remove  his  overcoat,  wrap  his 
pistol  in  it  and  dash  the  bundle  through  one  of  the  car  windows.  Many 
of  the  soldiers  jumped  from  the  car  and  in  the  darkness  and  confusion 
managed  to  escape;  but  my  father,  my  mother  and  myself  were  captured. 
The  night  was  bitter  cold,  and  we  were  none  too  warmly  clad.  My  father 
was  marched  off"  to  an  extemporized  prison,  while  my  mother  and  I  were 
allowed  to  go  to  a  hotel,  where  our  baggage  was  sent  to  us.  This  is  the 
time  that  I  remember  best  of  all. 

We  were  coldly  received  at  the  hotel,  for  it  was  not  hard  to  tell  that  we 
were  not  in  opulent  circumstances.     But  we  were  not  turned  away. 

The  next  morning  my  father  was  allowed  to  visit  us.  I  remember 
that  he  came  guarded  by  a  soldier  who  carried  no  weapons,  but  had  a  big 
spur  in  his  hand.  We  bade  my  father  a  tearful  farewell,  and  he  was 
marched  away  on  foot  to  Knovxille,  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred  and 
forty  miles.  He  told  me  afterwards  that  when  he  got  to  Knoxville  his 
boots  were  worn  out  entirely  and  that  his  bare  feet  were  on  the  ground. 
You  will  remember  that  it  was  late  in  December. 

General  Stoneman  remained  in  Bristol  the  day  following  our  capture, 
and  the  succeeding  night  was  the  most  distressing  one  I  have  ever  known. 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 


Immediately  in  front  of  the  hotel  were  two  large  depots,  in  which  were 
stored  large  quantities  of  weapons  and  ammunition.  Then  there  was 
a  long  passenger  shed.  On  one  side  of  the  hotel  and  distant  not  more 
than  a  hundred  yards,  were  some  large  frame  warehouses.  On  the  oppo 
site  side  were  blocks  of  brick  buildings.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  was 
by  intention  or  by  accident  that  these  were  destroyed,  but  soon  after  night 
fall  they  were  all  ablaze. 

In  the  hotel,  crowded  with  women  and  children,  all  was  confusion 
and  consternation.  On  three  sides  this  terrible  conflagration  was  raging. 
In  the  depots,  cartridges  and  shells  were  incessantly  exploding,  so  that 
it  seemed  as  if  a  battle  were  being  fought.  Above  the  roaring  of  the 
flames  could  be  heard  from  every  side  shouting,  shrieking,  and  the  wailing 
of  women  and  children.  We  stood  terror-stricken  beside  the  little  bun 
dles  of  our  goods  that  we  had  made,  for  we  could  get  no  help  to  carry 
our  trunks.  We  looked  every  moment  for  the  hotel  to  take  fire,  but  for 
tunately  it  had  been  raining  and  we  escaped  that  disaster,  though  for 
hours  there  was  imminent  danger  of  it.  We  were  deafened  by  the  tre 
mendous  noises,  choked  and  blinded  with  smoke,  trembling  with  fear. 
And  then  while  the  flames  were  roaring,  the  shells  exploding,  the  people 
crying  and  moaning,  there  came  a  great  burst  of  noise  such  as  we  had 
not  heard  before.  Along  the  soaked  and  muddy  street  in  front  of  the 
hotel  came  marching  regiment  after  regiment  of  negro  soldiers,  cavalry 
or  mounted  infantry.  As  they  marched  they  sang,  discordantly:  "John 
Brown's  body  lies  mouldering  in  the  grave."  Under  the  glare  of  the 
great  fires,  with  their  shining  black  faces,  their  gleaming  white  teeth, 
their  appearance  was  demoniac.  To  my  young  and  terrified  imagina 
tion  they  were  as  "fiends  hot  from  Tartarus."  They  pounded  on  through 
the  deep  mud,  shouting,  singing,  rattling  their  arms  and  crying  out  against 
"Jeff  Davis"  and  all  "rebels." 

You  must  know  that  above  all  things  the  Southern  people  feared  and 
disliked  negro  soldiers.  To  me  there  was  nothing  more  terrible.  And 
at  no  time  during  the  war,  or  in  all  my  life,  have  I  been  so  much  fright 
ened  as  during  that  night  when  Bristol  was  burning  and  Stoneman's 
negro  soldiers  were  marching  by.  As  I  could  see  no  end  of  the  flames 
up  or  down  the  street  through  which  they  passed,  it  seemed  as  though 
they  were  marching  out  of  the  fire  and  then  into  it  again. 

The  next  day  a  little  incident  occurred  that  impressed  itself  on  my 
memory.  There  was  a  long  hall  on  the  upper  floor  of  the  hotel  and  about 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES  73 

midway  in  the  ceiling  was  a  small  trap  door.  My  mother  had  sent  me  up 
to  her  room  for  something,  and  just  as  I  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs 
I  saw  one  of  the  ladies  of  our  party  come  from  one  of  the  rooms,  stop 
directly  under  the  trap  door  and  deftly  toss  a  paper  parcel  through  the 
opening  into  the  attic.  I  was  not  too  young  to  know  what  this  meant, 
and  was  not  at  all  surprised  when,  afterwards,  my  mother  told  me  that 
two  Confederate  soldiers  had  taken  refuge  in  the  attic,  and  were  pro 
visioned  by  the  ladies  of  the  party  in  this  way.  I  knew  one  of  the  soldiers 
very  well,  after  the  war. 

We  were  not  able  to  remain  at  the  hotel,  and  as  soon  as  possible  we 
secured  board  and  lodging  in  a  private  family.  We  were  almost  destitute 
and  were  very  unhappy.  I  had  but  one  suit  of  clothes  and  that  was  made 
entirely  from  an  old  blue  army  overcoat.  We  were  living  with  some 
distant  relations,  and  our  treatment  was  far  from  cordial.  The  condition 
of  the  poor  relation  is  always  an  unhappy  one.  When  Christmas  came 
my  mother  had  no  money  except  some  paper  bills  of  the  Confederacy. 
You  will  know  how  much  this  money  was  worth  when  I  tell  you  that  I 
had  twenty-one  dollars  of  it  for  a  Christmas  gift,  and  that  I  bought  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  of  maple  sugar  for  twenty  dollars,  and  three  little  sour 
warty  apples  for  one  dollar. 

It  was  not  long  before  we  had  spent  all  of  our  stock  of  this  worthless 
money,  and  were  entirely  dependent.  Then  my  mother  made  applica 
tion  to  return  to  Tennessee,  where  my  father's  brothers  were  willing  to 
support  us. 

We  were  sent  across  the  Federal  lines  under  a  second  flag  of  truce. 
This  time  we  had  a  genuine  hero  in  our  party.  His  name  was  Keeler,  and 
he  was  a  teamster.  He  had  become  famous  in  East  Tennessee  by  his 
heroic  defense  of  a  bridge  across  the  Holston  River  at  Strawberry  Plains 
against  a  party  of  bridge  burners.  Keeler  was  a  very  small  man,  not 
educated,  and  not  in  any  way  calculated  to  impress  one.  One  of  his 
arms  had  been  amputated  at  the  wrist,  and  his  health  was  not  good  when 
I  knew  him.  He  had  been  made  watchman  at  the  Strawberry  Plains 
bridge  by  the  Confederate  authorities  early  in  the  war.  The  loyalists 
of  East  Tennessee,  with  a  view  to  obstructing  the  Confederacy  as  much 
as  possible,  organized  small  parties  to  burn  the  bridges  along 
the  line  of  the  single  railroad  that  then  traversed  the  valley.  It 
was  at  midnight  that  the  attack  was  made  on  Keeler.  He  was  sleeping 
at  the  time  in  a  coffin  like  box  upon  the  high  abutment  on  the  east  bank 


74  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

of  the  river.  I  do  not  remember  how  many  were  in  the  attacking  party, 
but  they  made  a  large  company.  In  the  desperate  fight  that  ensued, 
Keeler  slew  several  of  his  assailants  and  was  himself  frightfully  mutilated 
with  bullet  and  knife  wounds.  As  I  now  recall,  he  was  fighting  at  the 
last  with  nothing  but  a  bowie  knife.  He  succeeded  in  saving  the  bridge. 
Soon  after  our  return  to  East  Tennessee  I  visited  the  scene  of  this  tragedy, 
having  Keeler's  recital  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  saw  as  I  was  told,  the 
box  where  he  lay.  There  were  dark  stains  in  the  box  and  on  the  timbers 
of  the  bridge,  under  and  around  it,  which  they  told  me  were  blood  stains. 
During  this  trip  from  Bristol  we  were  in  constant  fear  of  bushwhack 
ers,  and  more  than  once  our  escort  was  under  arms  to  defend  us,  but  we 
were  not  attacked. 

We  were  cordially  received  by  my  uncles  in  East  Tennessee  and 
remained  with  one  or  another  of  them  until  about  March,  1865,  when 
we  moved  to  Knoxville,  then,  as  now,  the  Capital  of  East  Tennessee.  I 
remember  distinctly  the  day  when  the  news  came  that  General  Lee  had 
surrendered.  I  was  playing  in  a  stable  loft  when  I  heard  a  furious  can 
nonading.  From  the  door  of  the  loft  we  could  see  the  high  University 
hill.  The  University  buildings  were  occupied  by  Federal  soldiers,  and 
a  large  battery  was  planted  on  the  campus.  We  could  see  the  commo 
tion  among  the  soldiers,  and  the  roar  of  the  big  guns  was  deafening. 
Running  to  the  house  to  find  what  was  the  cause  of  this,  we  found  the 
ladies  in  tears,  and  were  told  that  General  Lee  had  surrendered. 

We  had  until  about  this  time  been  in  ignorance  of  the  whereabouts 
of  my  father,  who  was  still  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  we  had  finally  ascer 
tained  that  he  was  confined  at  Camp  Chase  in  Ohio;  and  the  next  thing 
I  remember  is  his  return.  He  had  been  exchanged  just  before  the  sur 
render  and  was  on  his  way  to  rejoin  his  command  when  that  event  occurred. 

And  now  began  another  very  trying  time.  You  must  remember 
that  the  people  of  East  Tennessee  were  much  divided  in  politics.  There 
were  more  Union  men  than  Confederate  sympathizers.  When  the  Con 
federates  were  in  power  they  had  not  been  too  lenient  and  now  as  the  dis 
charged  soldiers  of  the  Southern  army  began  to  return  to  their  homes, 
the  opportunity  for  retaliation  came.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  the 
Union  men  cherished  enmity  against  the  Confederates.  By  far  the 
greater  number  of  them  did  not,  and  many  of  them  incurred  personal 
danger  in  the  effort  to  protect  their  late  antagonists.  There  were,  how 
ever,  a  large  number  of  the  more  violent,  and  not  a  few  who  had  been 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES  75 

harshly  dealt  with  by  the  Confederacy,  who  were  eager  for  revenge. 
The  less  intelligent  were  the  more  illiberal. 

Southern  sympathizers  were  assaulted  sometimes  on  the  street  and 
more  than  one  homicide  occurred  in  Knoxville.  As  many  of  my  father's 
family  were  Union  men,  he  had  less  cause  for  apprehension  than  any 
of  his  comrades.  Nevertheless  we  were  very  uneasy.  I  recall  that  one 
day  I  found  my  mother  very  much  agitated,  and  eagerly  inquiring  for 
my  father.  In  a  little  while  he  came  home,  and  soon  afterwards  a  num 
ber  of  his  friends  came  to  the  house  and  held  a  long  consultation.  My 
mother,  who  was  still  very  much  alarmed,  told  me  that  that  afternoon  a 
Union  man  had  met  a  returned  Confederate  in  the  court  house  and  had 
attempted  to  cane  him.  The  Confederate  had  done  his  best  to  escape, 
but  when  finally  driven  to  the  wall,  had  shot  and  killed  his  assailant. 
He  had  been  arrested  and  imprisoned  and  the  dominant  element  was 
clamoring  for  his  life,  and  no  Southern  man  could  feel  safe  so  long  as 
the  excitement  lasted.  That  night  there  was  a  general  ringing  of  bells 
throughout  the  city.  We  were  all  dressed  ready  to  fly  at  a  moment's 
warning,  but  we  were  not  molested.  In  the  morning  we  learned  that 
the  Confederate  prisoner  had  been  taken  from  the  jail  by  a  mob  and 
hanged.  The  situation  was  unpleasant  for  many  days.  The  dead  Con 
federate  had  many  friends  in  the  town,  but  they  were  all  Southern  sym 
pathizers,  and  therefore  helpless.  They  took  down  the  body,  however, 
and  made  preparations  to  bury  it.  Immediately  they  were  warned  that 
any  public  demonstration  would  be  followed  by  unpleasant  consequences. 
The  only  minister  in  the  city,  who  was  a  Southern  sympathizer,  was  for 
bidden  to  officiate  at  the  funeral,  but  being  a  man  of  fine  courage,  he 
disregarded  the  prohibition,  and  I  am  happy  to  say,  suffered  no  harm. 
Whipping  preachers,  by  the  way,  was  not  an  uncommon  occurrence  at 
that  time  in  the  back  counties.  In  the  more  intelligent  communities  I 
do  not  think  anything  of  the  kind  ever  occurred. 

As  time  passed  the  asperities  caused  by  the  war  gradually  subsided. 
But  now  and  then  the  Southerners  received  an  unpleasant  reminder  of 
their  position.  We  were  living  just  opposite  the  home  of  one  of  the  most 
prominent  Union  men  in  the  South.  Indeed  he  was  deservedly  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  men  in  the  country.  He  was  both  a  very  able 
and  a  very  good  man.  The  balcony  of  his  house  was  a  favorite  speak 
ing  place  for  the  orators  of  his  party,  and  at  election  time  there  was  speak 
ing  almost  every  night.  One  night  the  crowd  was  unusually  large  and 


j6  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

enthusiastic.  A  vehement  speaker  was  denouncing  the  "rebels,"  when 
a  returned  Confederate,  who  was  almost  drunk,  and  who  was  standing 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  shouted  "Hurrah  for  Jeff  Davis."  There 
was  a  mighty  roar  of  wrath  from  the  crowd,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  the  street  was  deserted.  The  entire  audience  leaving  the  speaker 
in  the  midst  of  a  sentence,  went  thundering  down  the  street  after  the 
offender.  Fortunately  they  did  not  catch  him,  or  I  believe  there  would 
have  been  another  lynching. 

No  fact  of  this  period  is  so  deeply  impressed  upon  my  memory  as 
the  one  I  am  about  to  relate.  Many  of  the  East  Tennessee  regiments  of 
the  Federal  army  were  disbanded  at  Knoxville;  and  at  the  times  when 
the  mustering  out  was  going  on,  the  town  was  crowded  with  soldiers. 
One  day  the  regiment  commanded  by  Col.  D.,  a  man  much  esteemed 
and  respected,  was  being  mustered  out.  The  regiment  was  paraded 
in  front  of  a  large  government  warehouse.  On  the  platform  in  front 
of  this  building  were  sentinels  who  were  negro  soldiers.  Col.  D.  having 
occasion  to  enter  the  warehouse,  was  accosted  by  one  of  these  sentinels 
and  forbidden  to  proceed.  He  waved  the  soldier  aside  and  went  on, 
whereupon  the  soldier  shot  him  dead,  in  full  view  of  his  regiment.  In 
stantly  the  regiment  broke  ranks  and  rushed  towards  the  murderer. 
He  fled,  and  for  some  hours  was  successfully  concealed  by  his  friend. 
Meanwhile  a  furious  mob  of  soldiers  was  raging  through  the  town  hunt 
ing  him  Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  some  of  the  searchers,  despairing 
of  rinding  the  culprit,  had  started  to  their  homes  in  the  country,  a  cav 
alryman  came  galloping  down  the  principal  street  crying:  "They've 
got  him!  They've  got  him!"  They  had  indeed  found  the  wretched 
offender  hidden  in  the  barracks  of  the  negro  soldiers.  The  news  spread 
as  if  by  magic.  The  men  who  had  started  home  came  trooping  back 
into  the  town,  and  a  yelling,  hooting,  swearing  mob  had  possession  of 
the  main  street.  If  I  had  been  older  I  should  not  have  ventured  into 
such  a  mob,  but  caught  in  the  general  excitement,  I  found  myself,  child 
as  I  was,  in  the  thick  of  the  throng.  By  common  consent  the  gathering 
place  was  in  front  of  the  office  of  the  Freedman's  Bureau,  a  flimsy  little 
frame  structure,  painted  an  ugly  yellow  color.  The  wretched  negro 
was  dragged  with  a  rope  around  his  neck  to  the  front  of  this  building; 
the  door  was  broken  open  and  the  rope  thrown  over  the  transom.  A 
dozen  eager  hands  seized  the  rope  and  gave  it  a  furious  jerk,  tearing 
out  the  door  frame  and  almost  demolishing  the  front  of  the  house.  Hav- 


CIVIL    WAR    REMINISCENCES  77 

ing  failed  here,  the  mob  rushed  down  the  street  still  dragging  the  black 
soldier  by  the  rope  around  his  neck — now  he  was  on  his  feet,  now  prone 
in  the  muddy  street  hurried  on  by  his  ruthless  captors.  Once  or  twice 
he  managed  to  utter  a  shriek  of  agony,  and  all  the  time  he  was  making 
frantic,  pitiful  efforts  to  loosen  the  deadly  clutch  of  the  rope.  He  did 
not  speak,  but  the  distorted  face  told  the  terrible  story  of  his  fear  and 
suffering.  Once  I  was  close  to  him,  as  the  mob  surged  by  the  spot  where 
I  was  standing,  and  so  long  as  I  live  I  shall  not  forget  the  sight.  Any 
thing  more  dreadful  the  imagination  cannot  conceive.  At  last  the  mob 
came  to  a  beautiful  yard  full  of  shade  trees;  the  enclosures  were  thrown 
down,  a  man  was  hoisted  into  one  of  the  trees,  the  rope  thrown  to  him,  and 
in  an  instant  the  victim  was  swung  into  the  air  and  literally  choked  to 
death.  Fascinated  by  the  horror  of  it  all,  I  stood  gazing  at  the  writhing 
body,  while  even  the  mob  was  silenced  for  the  moment  by  the  sight  of 
the  frightful  torments  it  was  inflicting.  Then  pity  and  terror  overcame 
my  boyish  curiosity,  and  I  ran  home  as  if  the  mob  were  after  me;  and 
for  months  afterwards  I  would  not  go  alone  into  a  dark  place,  for  in 
every  dark  place  I  saw  the  staring  eyes  and  the  frothing  mouth  of  the 
dead  negro. 

The  incident  that  I  have  just  related  is  remarkable  on  account  of  the 
fact  that  both  the  lynchers  and  their  victim  were  of  the  same  political 
belief,  and  all  of  them  were,  or  had  been  recently  soldiers  in  the  Union 
army. 

I  shall  content  myself  with  relating  one  more  incident  which  is  illus 
trative  of  the  conditions  of  the  time  immediately  succeeding  the  war. 

As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  do  so,  my  father  sent  me  to  school.  For 
nearly  two  years  my  education  had  been  sadly  neglected,  and  I  was  behind 
nearly  all  the  boys  of  my  age. 

The  school  to  which  I  was  sent  was  conducted  by  Professor  P.,  who 
was  a  young  man  fresh  from  Yale,  an  aspiring  man  with  a  gift  of  con 
versation,  but  withal  a  very  competent  teacher.  There  were  about 
seventy-five  of  us  in  the  school,  and  our  favorite  amusement  was  sling 
fighting.  This  was  a  result  of  the  war.  The  boys  all  played  at 
fighting  in  some  form,  and  a  more  dangerous  form  than  sling  fighting 
can  hardly  be  conceived.  The  streets  were  macadamized  and  on  the 
commons,  indeed  everywhere,  stones  abounded.  We  fought  one  another 
when  we  could  find  no  common  enemy,  and  I  remember  that  the  big 
boys  who  were  very  expert,  were  fond  of  fighting  the  little  boys  who  were 


7  CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES 

not  expert.  If  we  happened  to  be  where  for  any  cause  slings  could  not 
be  used,  we  contented  ourselves  with  throwing  stones  with  our  hands, 
and  my  own  indulgences  in  this  last  tamer  form  of  the  sport  cost  me  two 
years  at  school,  and  made  me  lame  for  a  longer  time. 

Our  school  was  on  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  the  town,  and  a 
block  and  a  half  from  it  was  an  old  Methodist  church  which  was  used 
as  a  school  house  for  colored  children  of  both  sexes.  The  teachers  were 
two  or  three  maiden  ladies  from  down  East.  Their  school  was  large; 
I  am  sure  that  they  had  not  less  than  three  hundred  pupils,  and  their 
boys,  as  well  as  ours,  had  slings.  For  a  long  time  we  were  on  the  verge 
of  war  with  this  colored  school.  The  race  prejudices  on  both  sides  were 
strong,  and  I  suspect  that  the  ladies  teaching  the  colored  school  were  not 
always  discreet  in  their  conversation. 

We  had  a  scout  whose  name  was  Ed  Snow,  and  the  negroes  had  one 
whose  name  was  Frank  McNutt.  Ed  was  a  slender,  active,  daring  little 
fellow,  while  Frank  was  a  grown  man,  tall,  slender,  very  powerful,  and 
by  far  the  best  slinger  in  the  town.  One  day  the  two  scouts  were  exchang 
ing  shots,  when  Frank  threw  a  minnie  ball  and  struck  Ed  on  the  ankle, 
inflicting  a  serious  wound  from  which  I  do  not  think  he  ever  fully  recov 
ered.  This  was  more  than  our  white  blood  could  endure,  and  so  we 
gathered  our  forces  and  charged  up  the  street  towards  the  colored  school 
house.  The  enemy  outnumbered  us  largely,  but  though  some  of  them 
fought  bravely,  most  of  them  fled  as  soon  as  we  came  to  close  quarters. 
One  big  yellow  fellow,  I  remember,  threw  a  cobble  stone  at  me  and  if  his 
aim  had  been  a  little  better  I  would  not  now  be  writing  this  history  of 
the  battle. 

Our  superior  fighting  qualities  quickly  carried  the  day  for  us.  We 
drove  the  enemy  from  the  field,  some  into  the  school  house  and  others 
into  neighboring  yards  and  streets.  As  soon  as  the  field  was  ours,  we 
gathered  in  front  of  the  school  house  and  gave  three  times  three  vocif 
erous  cheers.  I  did  not  quite  finish  my  cheering,  for  in  the  midst  of  it, 
a  hand  was  laid  rather  heavily  on  my  shoulder  and  I  turned  to  find  my 
father  gazing  upon  me  with  no  very  amiable  countenance.  He  made 
us  a  short  speech  and  told  us  to  get  back  to  our  own  school  house  at  once, 
and  we  obeyed  just  in  time.  Our  teacher  met  us  with  a  wrathful  coun 
tenance  and  promised  our  leaders  a  good  threshing,  but  the  course  of 
events  saved  them.  For  the  roll  had  hardly  been  called  when  we  heard 
a  tramping,  and  before  we  knew  what  it  meant  the  school  house  was 


CIVIL  WAR  REMINISCENCES  79 

surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  negro  soldiers  commanded  by  a  white  officer. 
We  knew  the  soldiers,  especially  as  they  were  colored,  would  not  fire 
upon  a  lot  of  boys,  and  so  we  determined  to  fight  again  rather  than  be 
captured  by  negro  soldiers.  Whether  we  would  have  fought  or  not  I 
cannot  say,  for  we  were  not  put  to  the  test.  Our  teacher  went  out  and 
had  a  long  talk  with  the  officer,  with  the  result  that  the  soldiers  were 
marched  away,  and  we  were  left  to  our  studies. 

I  have  now  written  for  you  an  account  of  such  incidents  of  my  child 
hood  as  I  think  are  likely  to  interest  you.  I  have  not  attempted  to  em 
bellish  the  narrative,  nor  to  write  an  entertaining  story. 

If  I  have  misstated  any  facts  it  is  because  my  memory  has  failed  me. 
I  have  not  sought  so  much  to  be  historically  exact  as  to  give  my  own 
impressions  Some  friends  who  have  heard  me  speak  of  seeking  Gen 
eral  Forrest  at  Athens,  as  I  have  related  above,  say  that  I  am  mistaken 
and  that  it  was  General  Wheeler.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  state  the  im 
pression  I  received  at  the  time  and  have  retained  ever  since. 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT.* 

|T  is  the  purpose  of  this  paper  to  consider  something  of  the  his 
tory  of  the  origin  and  development  of  our  distinctively  Amer 
ican  literature.  To  discuss  not  American  writers,  or  Amer 
ican  letters,  but  the  genesis  of  our  national  literature,  or  of 
nationalism  in  our  literature. 

It  was  not  very  long  ago  that  through  the  efforts  of  one  man  of  gen 
ius,  Lessing,  German  literature  ceased  to  be  imitative  and  mongrel,  and 
became  independent  and  national.  The  position  of  the  great  trans- 
cendentalist,  Emerson,  in  American  literature,  corresponds  closely  to 
that  of  Lessing  in  the  German. 

It  is  a  fact  of  which  we  may  be  justly  proud,  that  the  first  settlers 
in  America  were  friends  of  education.  This  was  true  hardly  less  of  the 
first  Virginians  than  of  the  New  England  Puritans.  In  her  earliest  days 
Virginia  had  not  a  few  writers,  Captain  John  Smith  being  of  the  num 
ber.  The  latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century,  however,  was  an  un 
fruitful  period  of  her  intellectual  life.  The  establishment  of  William 
and  Mary  College  in  1693  marks  the  beginning  of  a  new  era,  and  this  was 
the  first  important  work  of  the  cavalier  or  aristocratic  element,  which 
prior  to  that  time  had  been  of  comparatively  little  weight  in  the  colony. 
Almost  fifty  years  before  the  founding  of  William  and  Mary,  the  New 
Englanders  had  laid  the  foundation  of  their  Pharos,  Harvard  College. 
It  was  apparent  from  an  early  day  that  the  conditions  of  New  Eng 
land  were  more  favorable  than  those  of  other  sections  of  the  country 
to  the  growth  of  letters.  During  the  whole  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
however,  Virginia  was  a  worthy  rival  of  Massachusetts.  These  two 
dominated  the  councils  of  the  thirteen  colonies,  and  of  the  infant  republic. 
The  superiority  thus  manifested  was  in  large  measure  the  reward  of 
their  devotion  to  education.  If  we  seek  the  causes  of  Adams  and  Han 
cock,  of  Jefferson,  Madison  and  Marshall,  we  shall  find  them  in  Har 
vard  and  Yale  and  William  and  Mary. 

No  sooner  had  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  been  adopted 
than  a  tremendous  struggle  arose  over  its  construction.  To  this  con 
test  the  Southern  States,  being  from  an  early  period  in  the  minority,  were 
compelled  to  devote  all  their  energies  and  abilities.  For  this  and  other 
reasons  letters  did  not  flourish  in  the  South,  and  while  at  the  end  of 

*An  Irving  Club  Paper  (1892).  (81) 


82  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 

the  eighteenth  century  Virginia,  the  leading  Southern  State,  would  have 
denied  the  palm  of  scholarship  and  literature  to  New  England,  there 
could  have  been  found  forty  years  later  ten  writers  of  distinction  and 
merit  in  Massachusetts  for  every  one  in  Virginia,  or  perhaps  in  the  whole 
South.  It  is  to  New  England  with  its  theologic  mind  and  theocratic 
institutions  that  we  must  look  for  the  beginnings  of  American  literature, 
and  for  the  influences  to  which  it  owes  its  distinguishing  characteristics. 
A  type  of  the  early  New  Englander  is  Cotton  Mather,  who  was  unrivalled  in 
pious  fervor  and  power,  or  in  fruitfulness,  in  an  age  unparalleled  for  discourse 
and  controversy.  A  worthy  successor  was  Jonathan  Edwards,  in  whom  is 
found  the  origin  of  the  influences,  the  impulse,  to  which  after  more  than  a 
century  of  secondariness  and  imitation,  we  owe  the  rich  beginnings  of  a 
truly  national  literature.  He  cannot  be  called  a  reformer.  He  was  no  less 
a  Calvinist  than  preceding  New  England  theologians.  Indeed,  he  was 
the  strictest  of  Calvinists,  and  yet  in  a  sense  the  most  liberal,  and  was 
the  forerunner  of  William  Ellery  Channing,  upon  whose  beautiful  life 
and  character  the  marks  of  his  influence  are  plainly  to  be  seen.  Be 
tween  him  and  his  predecessors  in  the  leadership  of  the  Church  in  New 
England  were  differences  of  vital  importance.  They  had  been  theo 
logians  pure  and  simple.  They  had  convicted  and  saved  sinners  by 
syllogisms  and  the  terrors  of  damnation.  He  was  the  people's  friend, 
was  interested  in  affairs  and  was  the  steadfast  advocate  of  social 
improvement.  But,  most  important  for  our  present  purpose,  is  the 
fact  that  he  was  in  a  very  special  and  unusual  sense  an  idealist. 
The  great  religious  teachers  have  from  the  nature  of  things  belonged 
to  this  school  of  philosophy.  But  President  Edwards  was  more  than 
a  religious  teacher.  He  was  the  dominant  thinker  of  his  time  in  this 
country.  His  influence  upon  New  England  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 
America  has  not  produced  his  equal  in  theology  or  metaphysics.  He 
is  the  fixed  and  definite  source  of  modern  idealism  in  New  England, 
although  by  many  he  has  been  strangely  misconceived  as  a  follower  of 
Locke.  After  him  came  Channing,  a  man  almost  without  an  equal  for 
beauty  and  nobility  of  character.  Differing  widely  from  Edwards  in 
important  respects,  he  was  nevertheless  his  disciple.  His  influence, 
except  in  theology,  was  in  the  same  direction,  and  in  the  main  along  the 
same  lines.  His  theology  also  was  upon  the  earth  and  not  in  the  clouds. 
Since  the  death  of  Edwards  no  man  had  filled  so  large  a  space  in  the 
intellectual  life  of  New  England.  He  was  a  social  reformer  and  an  ideal- 


THE   TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  83 

ist;  the  connecting  link  between  the  liberalized  Calvinism  of  Edwards 
and  the  transcendentalism  of  Emerson.  We  thus  reach,  historically,  the 
period  of  our  declaration  of  intellectual  independence;  and  here  fair  treat 
ment  of  the  subject  demands  consideration  of  certain  writers  who  were 
not  of  New  England. 

Professor  Tyler,  in  his  excellent  work  on  American  literature,  divides 
the  colonial  period  into  two  epochs;  the  first  extending  from  1607  to  1676, 
and  the  second  from  1676  to  1776.  In  the  first  the  authors  of  such 
books  as  were  written  in  America  were  immigrants.  In  the  second  they 
were  native  Americans  writing  after  foreign  models  and  controlled  by 
foreign  influences.  This  latter  state  did  not  end  with  the  War  of  Inde 
pendence.  For  the  first  half  century  of  our  national  life  our  writers 
were  born  in  America,  but  wrote  for  Europe.  The  condition  is  almost 
reproduced  in  the  relations  of  our  own  North  and  South  of  the  present 
day.  There  are  many  Southern  writers,  but  as  a  rule  they  are  writing 
for  the  North.  The  reading  public  is  at  the  North.  Seventy-five  years 
ago  it  was  in  England. 

It  was  in  1820  that  Sydney  Smith  made  himself  odious  to  Americans 
by  his  famous  question:  "In  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  who  reads 
an  American  book?  Or  goes  to  an  American  play?  Or  looks  at  an 
American  picture  or  statue?"  This  was  eleven  years  after  the  appearance 
of  "  Knickerbocker,"  the  very  year  that  Irving  gave  the  "Sketch  Book"  to  the 
world,  and  one  year  before  Cooper's  "Spy"  was  printed.  Irving  and  Cooper 
were  the  first  American  authors  who  attracted  the  attention  of  European 
readers.  Irving  is  by  some  affectionately  styled  "the  father  of  American 
literature,"  and  yet  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  is  used  in  this  paper, 
very  much  of  his  work  is  not  American  at  all.  He  was  a  student  of  the 
literary  style  and  methods  of  the  "Spectator."  The  humor,  often  super- 
refined,  the  sketchiness  of  "Bracebridge"  and  others  of  his  books,  the 
literary  partnership  with  Paulding,  all  remind  us  of  Addison  and  Steele 
and  the  customs  of  their  day.  The  witty  couplet  with  which  Lowell 
concludes  his  description  of  Irving  is  well  known,  but  is  worthy  to  be 
repeated: 

"You'll  find  a  choice  nature,  not  wholly  deserving 
A  name  either  English  or  Yankee,  just  Irving." 

The  following  ferocious  criticism  of  Irving  comes  from  the  Edin 
burgh  Review:  "He  gasped  for  British  popularity,  he  came  and  found 


84  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 

it.  He  was  received,  caressed,  applauded,  and  made  giddy;  natural 
politeness  owed  him  some  return,  for  he  imitated,  admired,  and  deferred 

to  us It  was  plain  that  he  thought  of  nothing  else,  and 

was  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  to  obtain  a  smile  or  a  look  of  approba 
tion."  Genial  "Kit  North"  was  a  more  kindly  critic.  He  said:  "His 

later  books  are  beautiful,  but  they  are  English As  he 

thinks  and  feels,  so  does  he  write,  more  like  us  than  we  could  have  thought 
it  possible  an  American  could  do,  while  his  fine,  natural  genius  preserves 
in  a  great  measure  his  originality."  It  may  not  be  denied  that  Irving  did 
defer  to  English  taste,  and  crave  English  approval.  Indeed,  how  could 
it  have  been  otherwise?  His  reading,  his  studies  of  style,  his  readers, 
and  the  traditions  of  his  profession  were  all  English.  Nevertheless, 
many  of  his  books  are  as  genuinely  American  in  subject  and  in  treat 
ment  as  the  most  extreme  nationalism  could  demand.  This  is  notably 
true  of  "Knickerbocker,"  the  "Sketch  Book,"  and  "Washington." 

The  Rev.  Sydney  Smith  did  not  know  when  he  propounded  his  uncom 
plimentary  question  that  there  were  alive  at  that  time  such  persons  as 
Irving,  Cooper,  Poe,  Bryant,  Longfellow,  Emerson,  Whittier,  Bancroft, 
Motley,  Prescott,  Hawthorne  and  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe,  all  of  whom  were 
destined  to  write  American  books  which  would  be  read  and  praised  the  world 
over,  and  all  of  whom  would  be  honored,  no  less  than  himself,  in  "the 
four  quarters  of  the  globe."  Of  these,  Irving  was  first  in  point  of  time, 
but  he  had  nothing  of  the  radical  in  his  composition.  He  was  essen 
tially  conservative,  and  had  not  the  independence,  nor  in  truth,  the  intel 
lectual  force,  to  lead  a  revolt  against  foreign  domination.  He  served  the 
cause  of  American  letters  most,  by  proving  to  the  world  that  his  country 
afforded  the  materials  of  literature,  and  thereby  greatly  stimulating  native 
production. 

Cooper's  first  story,  "Precaution,"  was  essentially  an  English  novel, 
and  if  his  subsequent  tales  were,  many  of  them,  devoted  to  backwoods 
life  and  adventure,  it  was  not  on  account  of  the  author's  Americanism, 
more  than  of  the  fact  that  the  novelty  of  the  theme  made  them  popular 
in  Europe.  That  Cooper  was  intensely  American  is  well  known,  but 
it  was  political  Americanism.  In  his  dissertations  upon  the  greatness 
of  his  country,  and  her  future,  he  dwells  at  great  length  on  material 
aspects,  and  has  the  fewest  words  for  art  and  letters.  The  unfortu 
nate  differences  which  arose  between  him  and  so  many  of  his 
countrymen,  in  his  later  years,  were  not  calculated  to  make  him  hope- 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  85 

ful  or  even  desirous  of  a  distinctively  American  literature.  I  can  find 
no  positive  evidence  that  he  participated  in  the  desire  so  strongly 
expressed  by  some  of  his  New  England  contemporaries  for  the  estab 
lishment  of  "the  American  sentiment"  in  literature.  That  his  services 
in  that  direction  were  very  great,  though  perhaps  unconscious,  must  be 
thankfully  admitted.  He  was,  and  has  perhaps  continued  to  be,  the 
most  popular  of  American  writers  in  Europe,  especially  on  the  continent, 
where  his  books  have  been  more  generally  translated  than  those  of  any 
other  of  our  writers.  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  no  doubt,  surpassed  his 
works  in  Trans-Atlantic  popularity,  but  no  such  favor  has  been  granted 
any  other  of  Mrs.  Stowe's  books,  while  nearly  all  his  novels  have  been 
translated  and  widely  read.  The  extent  of  his  influence  at  home  is  indi 
cated  by  the  number  and  standing  of  his  imitators.  Among  these  may 
be  mentioned,  as  the  most  prominent,  Wm.  Gilmore  Simms,  John  P. 
Kennedy  and  Bret  Harte.  The  multitudinous  and  sanguinary  Indian 
dime  novels  are  "counterfeit  presentments"  of  the  "Leatherstocking 
Tales." 

Conceding  then  to  Irving  and  Cooper  important  parts  in  the  advance 
ment  of  literature  in  America,  it  remains  true  that  neither  of  them  was 
the  avowed  or  the  actual  champion  of  our  intellectual  independence.  For 
the  origin  of  this  sentiment  and  movement,  we  shall  look  in  vain  unless 
we  turn  to  New  England.  It  was  somewhere  between  1820  and  1836  that 
the  great  intellectual  revival  of  New  England  began.  Its  chief  product 
was  called  "Transcendentalism." 

It  is  a  notable  fact  that  American  writers  who  treat  of  the  origin  of 
transcendentalism,  almost  without  exception  trace  it  to  foreign  sources, 
ranging  from  Buddha  and  Plato  to  Swedenborg  and  Carlyle.  It  has 
been  tacitly  conceded  that  these  foreign  influences  seized  upon  the  Yan 
kee  mind  and  moulded  it  after  their  own  fashion.  Unquestionably, 
every  one  of  the  great  ideal  philosophers,  from  Plato  downward,  had 
part  in  the  creation  of  transcendentalism,  but  it  is  not  necessary  now 
to  seek  farther  than  the  proximate  causes.  For  these  we  are  not  com 
pelled  to  study  the  Platonists,  the  Neo-Platonists,  Swedenborg,  Coleridge, 
or  Kant.  The  idealists  who  were  most  influential  in  causing  and  in 
shaping  and  directing  the  New  England  mind  and  therefore  the  trans 
cendental  movement,  were  Jonathan  Edwards  and  William  Ellery  Chan- 
ning.  The  mantle  of  Channing  fell  upon  Emerson.  These  three  repre 
sent  as  many  distinct,  and,  in  some  respects,  antagonistic  phases  of  thought. 


86  THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 

These  phases  are  connected  stages  of  progress,  for  better  or  worse,  from 
the  severest  Calvinism  of  theocratic  times  to  transcendentalism,  which 
was  the  ultimate  refinement  of  idealism.  There  was  a  general  awakening 
in  both  Europe  and  America,  a  profound  thought  movement.  Nowhere 
was  the  activity  more  profound  than  in  New  England,  where  it  was 
essentially  a  revival  of  idealism.  And  Edwards  and  Channing  were  the 
husbandmen  who  had  prepared  the  soil  and  sown  much  of  the  seed. 
There  is  no  need  to  go  to  Europe  when  we  can  find  such  good  and  sufficient 
causes  at  home.  There  was  not  a  little  sentimentalism,  mingled  with  trans 
cendentalism,  if  we  accept  Lowell's  definition  of  it.  Brook  Farm  is  a  con 
spicuous  instance.  Lowell, writing  wittily, thus  describes  the  time:  "The 
nameless  eagle  of  the  tree  Ygdrasil  was  about  to  sit  at  last,  and  wild-eyed  en 
thusiasts  rushed  from  all  sides,  eager  to  thrust  under  the  mystic  bird  that 
chalk  egg  from  which  the  new  and  fairer  creation  was  to  be  hatched  in 
due  time.  .  .  .  Every  form  of  intellectual  and  physical  dyspepsia 
brought  forth  its  gospel.  .  .  .  Everybody  had  a  mission  (with  a 
capital  M)  to  attend  to  everybody  else's  business.  .  .  .  No  brain 
but  had  its  private  maggot,  which  must  have  found  pitiably  short  commons 
sometimes!"  Elsewhere  he  writes  less  wittily,  but  not  less  truthfully:  "It 
was  simply  a  struggle  for  fresh  air.  .  .  .  There  is  only  one  thing  better 
than  tradition;  that  is  the  original  and  eternal  life,  out  of  which  all  tradi 
tion  takes  its  rise.  It  was  this  life  which  the  reformers  demanded  with 
more  or  less  clearness  of  consciousness  and  expression,  life  in  politics, 
life  in  literature,  life  in  religion."  Emerson  puts  it  thus:  "The  general 
mind  had  become  aware  of  itself.  Men  grew  conscious  and  intellectual. 
The  swart  earth  spirit  which  had  made  the  strength  of  past  ages  was 
all  gone,  and  another  hour  had  struck.  In  literature  there  was  a  decided 
tendency  to  criticism,  and  young  men  seemed  to  have  been  born  with 
knives  in  their  brains." 

Colonel  Higginson,  in  his  "Life  of  Margaret  Fuller,"  declares  that: 
"What  is  called  the  Transcendental  Movement  amounts  essentially 
to  this:  about  the  year  1836,  a  number  of  young  people  in  America 
made  the  discovery  that  in  whatever  quarter  of  the  globe  they  happened 
to  be,  it  was  possible  for  them  to  take  a  look  at  the  stars  for  themselves. 
This  discovery  no  doubt  led  to  extravagancies  and  follies;  the  experi 
mentalists  at  first  went  stumbling  about  like  the  astrologer  in  the  fable, 
with  their  eyes  on  the  heavens;  and  at  Brook  Farm  they,  like  him,  fell 
into  the  ditch.  No  matter,  there  were  plenty  of  people  to  make  a  stand 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  87 

in  behalf  of  conventionalism  in  those  very  days;  the  thing  most  needed 
was  to  have  a  few  fresh  thinkers,  a  few  apostles  of  the  ideal,  and  they 
soon  made  their  appearance  in  good  earnest.  The  first  impulse  no 
doubt  was  in  the  line  of  philosophic  and  theologic  speculation,  but  the 
primary  aim  announced  on  the  very  first  page  of  the  'Dial'  was 
to  make  new  demands  in  literature."  It  was  of  the  intellectual  activity 
of  this  period  that  a  genuinely  American  literature  was  born.  The 
correctness  of  assigning  an  exclusively  foreign  origin  to  transcendent 
alism,  considered  as  a  philosophic  movement,  is  questioned.  It  was 
through  the  philosophic  that  the  literary  movement  came.  They  were 
two  phases  of  one  substance.  In  regard  to  the  latter,  as  well  as  the 
former,  there  has  been  a  mistaken  tendency  to  look  abroad  for  causes. 
The  period  was  marked,  both  in  Europe  and  America,  by  an  extra 
ordinary  activity  in  every  department  of  thought  and  endeavor.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  the  new  era  of  invention  and  scientific  progress. 
America  shared  in  the  world's  advancement.  New  England  was  the 
first  settled  and  most  thickly  populated  section  of  the  country.  It  had 
progressed  further  toward  the  conquest  of  the  soil  and  was  socially  estab 
lished.  Having  measurably  solved  the  problems  of  politics  and  affairs 
which  had  in  the  beginning  demanded  all  their  energies,  the  people  had 
more  leisure  as  well  as  more  taste  for  philosophy  and  literature.  They 
had  reached  the  point  where  they  had  prepared  to  break  their  leading 
strings  and  go  alone.  They  were  unwilling  that  others  should  longer 
furnish  them  opinions.  They  would  try  to  think  for  themselves.  Colonel 
Higginson  declares  that:  "As  Petrarch  gave  an  impulse  to  modern 
European  literature  when  he  thought  himself  reviving  the  study  of  the 
ancient,  so  the  transcendental  movement  in  America,  while  actively 
introducing  French  and  German  authors  to  the  American  public,  was 
really  preparing  the  way  for  that  public  to  demand  a  literature  of  its 
own."  The  comparison  is  not  unexceptionable,  because  the  transcendent- 
alists  were  not  unconscious  of  the  work  they  were  accomplishing,  but 
were  upon  the  contrary  loud  and  persistent  in  their  demands  for  a  liter 
ature  of  our  own. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  eminent  author,  last  quoted,  speaks  of  the 
transcendentalists  as  "introducing  French  and  German  authors." 
This  is  the  correct  statement  of  the  case.  The  study  of  foreign  liter 
ature  was  the  effect  and  not  the  cause.  The  primary  cause  was  the 
intellectual  growth  and  alertness  of  New  England,  and  not  the  importa- 


88  THE   TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 

tion  of  books  from  Europe.  Transcendentalism  in  its  literary  as  well 
as  in  its  philosophic  aspect  was  essentially  home-made.  This  is 
true,  as  far  as  it  can  ever  be  true  of  such  a  manifestation  anywhere. 
But  whatever  the  causes  may  have  been,  wherever  the  sources  are 
to  be  sought,  it  is  certain  that  to  these  New  England  idealists  we  owe 
what  we  have  of  a  distinctively  American  literature.  That  there  was 
any  necessary  connection  between  their  achievements  in  literature  and 
their  peculiar  philosophical  doctrines  will  not  be  believed  readily  by 
those  who  are  less  prone  than  the  present  writer  to  regard  the  idealists 
as  the  leaders  of  the  world's  thought  and  progress.  It  is  to  be  remarked, 
however,  that  the  lofty  morality  of  the  transcendentalists  gave  to  the 
literature  of  this  country  the  high  tone  and  character  for  which  it  has 
been  distinguished.  Of  this,  more  anon. 

The  following  facts  and  quotations  are  offered  as  proofs  that  I  do 
not  overestimate  the  merits  and  services  of  this  school: 

In  his  famous  address  on  the  "American  Scholar"  in  1837  Emerson 
said:  "Perhaps  the  time  is  already  come,  .  .  .  when  the  sluggard 
intellect  of  this  continent  will  look  from  under  its  iron  lids,  and  fill  the 
postponed  expectation  of  the  world  with  something  better  than  the  exer 
tions  of  mechanical  skill.  Our  day  of  dependence,  our  long  apprentice 
ship  to  the  learning  of  other  lands  draws  to  a  close.  The  multitudes  around 
us  that  are  rushing  into  life  cannot  always  be  fed  on  the  sere  remains  of  for 
eign  harvests.  Events,  actions  arise  that  must  be  sung,  that  will  sing  them 
selves."  It  was  in  1836  that  Robert  Bartlett  said  in  his  address  at  Harvard : 
"Is  everything  so  sterile  and  pigmy  here  in  New  England,  that  we  must 
all,  writers  and  readers,  be  forever  replenishing  ourselves  with  the  mighty 
wonders  of  the  old  world?  .  .  .  We  are  looking  abroad  and  back 
ward  for  a  literature.  Let  us  come  and  live,  and  know  in  living  a  high 
philosophy  and  faith;  so  shall  we  find  now,  here,  the  elements,  and  in 
our  own  good  souls,  the  fire."  It  was  in  the  same  year  that  Thoreau 
wrote:  "We  are,  as  it  were,  but  colonies.  True,  we  have  declared  our 
independence  and  gained  our  liberty,  but  we  have  dissolved  only  the 
political  bonds,  which  connected  us  with  Great  Britain.  Though  we  have 
rejected  her  tea,  she  still  supplies  us  with  food  for  the  mind.  The  aspirant 
for  fame  must  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  foreign  parts,  and  learn  to  talk 
about  things  which  the  home-bred  student  never  dreamed  of,  if  he  would 
have  his  talents  appreciated  or  his  opinions  regarded  by  his  countrymen." 
Theodore  Parker  is  quoted  as  saying  that:  "The  cultivated  Amer- 


THE  TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  89 

ican  literature  was  exotic  and  the  native  literature  was  rowdy,  consisting 
mainly  of  campaign  squibs,  coarse  satire,  and  frontier  jokes.  Children 
were  reared  from  the  time  they  learned  their  letters  on  Miss  Edgeworth 
and  Mrs.  Trimmer,  whose  books,  otherwise  excellent,  were  unconsciously 
saturated  with  social  conventionalisms  and  distinctions  quite  foreign 
to  our  society." 

The  first  subject  discussed  by  the  "Transcendental  Club"  was:  "Amer 
ican  Genius,  the  causes  which  hinder  its  growth,  giving  us  no  first  rate 
productions."  The  "Dial"  has  by  eminent  authority,  already  much 
used  in  this  paper,  been  declared  to  have  been  the  first  thoroughly 
American  "literary  enterprise."  Greatest  among  the  transcendental- 
ists  was  Emerson,  and  to  him  more  than  any  other,  are  we  in 
debted  for  the  development  of  a  national  sentiment  in  our  literature. 
Lowell  gives  him  all  the  credit,  saying:  "We  were  still  socially  and 
intellectually  moored  to  English  thought  till  Emerson  cut  the  cable." 
George  Willis  Cook,  in  his  excellent  biography,  pays  Emerson  this  high 
tribute:  "As  Lessing  raised  his  voice  against  imitation  of  the  French, 
and  called  for  a  genuine  German  literature,  founded  on  national  senti 
ment,  so  has  Emerson  protested  against  foreign  models,  and  in  favor  of 
American  literature.  His  influence  has  been  as  healthful  and  powerful 
as  Lessing's,  creating  in  this  way,  as  Lessing  did,  a  national  literature." 

Thus  American  literature  was  born  in  New  England  and  nurtured 
by  a  lofty  idealism.  Its  beginning  was  upon  a  high  plane.  The  char 
acter  which  was  imparted  to  it  by  its  founders  has  been  maintained.  If 
the  tremendous  growth  of  foreign  population  and  influence  appears  of 
late  years  to  have  lowered  its  tone  and  to  have  debauched  the  public 
taste,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  manifestation  is  ephemeral 
and  unimportant,  although  it  may  be  ridiculous  and  offensive. 

From  what  has  been  said  it  will  be  seen  that  the  word  "transcen 
dentalism"  is  used  as  the  most  convenient  name  for  the  New  England 
revival  of  letters.  Perhaps  the  choice  was  an  unhappy  one,  even  mis 
leading  and  inaccurate.  It  is  true  that  in  our  studies  we  have  considered 
especially  the  extreme,  the  excessive  aspects  of  the  movement,  for  which 
we  have  developed  but  little  sympathy.  This  is  natural  and  in  a  meas 
ure  right,  for  in  certain  respects  the  ultra  transcendentalists  deserve 
richly,  not  only  disapproval,  but  the  most  positive  condemnation. 

It  is  unavoidable  that  every  strong  movement  intellectual,  moral  or 
political  should  produce  extremists  and  run  into  extravagancies.  Of 


9O  THE   TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT 

all  the  great  things  of  modern  times,  the  reformation  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  indisputably  the  greatest,  but  no  one  condemns  Martin 
Luther  because  Protestantism  produced  so  absurd  a  creature  as  Praise 
God  Barebones,  and  If-Christ-had-not-died-for-you-you-had-been-damned 
Barebones.  And  as  we  can  now  laugh  at  the  Barebones  family  record, 
so  we  can  smile  at  Brook  Farm,  at  Thoreau's  pinchbeck  Buddishm,  at 
Alcott  playing  tinker  and  feeding  his  family  on  the  ultra  transcendental 
winter  diet  of  apples,  and  at  a  thousand  other  extravagant  and  fantastic 
sayings  and  doings,  and  at  the  same  time  know  that  the  movement,  out 
of  which  all  these  absurd  things  sprung,  was  founded  in  high  principles, 
directed  to  noble  ends,  and  productive  of  not  a  few  beneficent  results. 
It  was  in  a  positive  and  actual  sense  the  first  conscious  and  general  Amer 
ican  espousal  of  that  noble  philosophy,  which  may  not  contain  the  whole 
truth,  but  which  to  my  mind  holds  the  better  part  that  was  taught  in 
Greece  by  Plato,  in  Germany  by  Kant,  in  England  by  Coleridge  and 
Carlyle,  and  which  is  in  varying  forms  the  basis  of  every  great  religion. 

The  transcendentalists,  and  especially  Emerson,  have  been  criticised 
for  exaggerating  the  importance  of  the  individual  and  of  self-culture. 
On  this  point  I  cannot  refrain  from  quoting  Frothingham,  with  whom 
I  agree  fully  in  this  instance.  "It  has  been  objected  to  that  it  made 
self-culture  too  important,  carrying  it  to  the  point  of  selfishness,  sacri 
ficing  in  its  behalf  sympathy,  brotherly  love,  sentiments  of  patriotism, 
personal  fidelity  and  honor,  and  rejoicing  in  the  production  of  a  moun 
tainous  'Me,'  fed  at  the  expense  of  life's  sweetest  humanities,  and  Goethe 
is  straightway  cited  as  the  transcendental  apostle  of  the  gospel  of  heart 
less  indifference.  But  allowing  the  charge  against  Goethe  to  rest  unre- 
futed,  it  must  be  made  against  him  as  a  man,  not  as  a  transcendentalist; 
and  even  if  it  were  true  of  him  as  a  transcendentalist  it  was  not  true  of 
Kant,  or  Fichte,  of  Schleiermacher  or  Herder,  of  Jean  Paul  or  Novalis, 
of  Coleridge,  Carlyle  or  Wordsworth;  and  whoever  intimated  that  it  was 
true  of  Emerson,  who  has  been  one  of  the  most  industrious  teachers  of 
his  generation,  and  one  of  the  most  earnest  worshippers  of  the  genius  of 
his  native  land."  Again  he  says,  after  commending  Parker,  Channing 
and  others:  "By  'self-culture'  these  and  the  rest  of  their  brotherhood 
meant  the  culture  of  that  nobler  self,  which  includes  heart  and  conscience, 
sympathy  and  spirituality,  not  as  incidental  ingredients,  but  as  essential 
qualities.  Self-hood  they  never  identified  with  selfishness." 

So  much  is  deemed  proper  and  fair  to  say,  seeing  now  too  late  that 


THE   TRANSCENDENTAL  MOVEMENT  QI 

in  assigning  the  topics  for  the  present  series  of  discussions  we  have  unduly 
emphasized  the  ultra  and  least  attractive  and  excellent  features  of  the 
transcendental  movement.  In  concluding  this  digression,  the  convic 
tion  is  reaffirmed  that,  considered  with  reference  to  its  real  spirit  and 
purposes,  no  uninspired  movement  in  thought  or  morals  was  ever  purer 
in  quality,  or  aimed  higher  than  the  transcendental  movement.  This 
is  said  despite  total  dissent  from  Emerson's  most  important  religious 
teachings,  the  conviction  that  Thoreau  was  largely  absurd,  the  luke 
warm  admiration  of  Margaret  Fuller,  the  inability  to  admire  Ripley  at 
all,  the  belief  that  Dana  was  a  brilliant,  ill-balanced,  unsafe  and  trucu 
lent  fellow,  and  many  other  dissents,  disapprovals  and  dislikes  of  trans- 
cendentalists  and  of  parts  of  transcendentalism. 

A  book  on  the  poetry  of  transcendentalism  has  appeared,  showing 
that  these  poets,  male  and  female,  were  forty  in  number.  Of  the  better 
known  literary  persons  directly  connected  with  the  movement  all  the 
men  and  women  may  be  included  who  thought  and  wrote  in  New  Eng 
land  in  the  first  three  quarters  of  the  last  century,  especially  in  the  second 
and  third  quarters.  Bancroft  represents  it  in  history,  Hawthorne  and 
Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  in  fiction,  and  Emerson,  Whittier,  and  in  less 
degree  Longfellow  in  poetry.  It  has  touched  and  influenced  more  than 
any  other  single  force,  the  moral  and  intellectual  life  of  the  whole  coun 
try  for  the  last  seventy-five  years.  The  anti-slavery  agitators,  Garrison, 
Phillips  and  Sumner,  were  its  immediate  products,  and  the  kinship  be 
tween  these  and  the  Eastern  anti-imperialists,  Atkinson  and  others  of 
today,  is  apparent  at  a  glance.  It  is  true  perhaps  that  essentially  the 
movement  was  ethical  rather  than  literary  or  purely  intellectual  in  pur 
pose  and  quality;  but  in  its  literary  results  only  it  has  been  the  most 
influential,  if  not  in  fact  the  only  real  literary  movement,  we  have  had 
in  America.  Emerson  is  unquestionably  the  foremost  man  of  the  move 
ment,  not  that  he  was  the  greatest  or  best  American  writer,  but  that  he 
was  among  the  first  in  literary  skill  and  achievement,  and  indisputably 
the  first  and  the  most  influential  in  promoting  the  independence  of  letters 
in  this  country. 


THE  SOUTH  IN  THE  REVOLUTION  * 

ADDRESS  AT  THE  TRIENNIAL  BANQUET  OF  THE  GENERAL  SOCIETY  OF  THE 
SONS  OF  THE  REVOLUTION,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  APRIL  19,  1902. 

MR.  JOSHUA  W.  CALDWELL:  Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen:  It  is 
exceedingly  kind  of  you  to  applaud  before  you  know  what  is  coming. 
I  have,  long  ago,  reached  the  conclusion  that  whenever  it  becomes  neces 
sary,  I  shall  ask  my  audience  to  begin  with  a  little  applause.  I  know 
of  nothing  that  gives  the  speaker  a  better  send-off.  I  am  a  little  bit 
embarrassed  by  the  position  that  I  occupy  on  the  programme  tonight, 
for  a  good  many  reasons.  I  think  that  for  my  own  good,  I  come  a  little 
too  early.  It  is  all  very  well  for  my  distinguished  and  eloquent  friend, 
Mr.  Cabell,  of  Virginia,  to  come  first,  because  he  is  one  of  the  First  Fam 
ilies  of  Virginia.  (Laughter  and  applause).  He  is  also  one  of  the  first 
orators,  wherever  he  may  be;  but  I  am  additionally  embarrassed,  and 
somewhat  complimented  also,  and  pleased,  by  the  fact  that  I  take  this 
evening  what  one  of  my  friends  calls  "precedence,"  and  the  other  calls 
"precedence"  (applause  and  laughter)  over  certain  other  distinguished 
gentlemen.  I  think  this  is  the  first  occasion  on  which  a  plain,  an  exceed 
ingly  plain,  American  citizen,  surrounded  by  his  fellow-citizens  of  the 
same  general  description  (laughter),  has  ever  taken  precedence  or  prece 
dence  over  the  f  Ambassador  of  the  French  Republic.  (Laughter  and 
applause.)  I  am  sure,  also,  that  it  is  the  first  occasion  where  such  pre 
cedence  has  been  granted  to  an  American  Citizen  over  the  illustrious 
{head  of  the  American  Navy;  (applause)  a  gentleman  who  immortalized 
himself  in  the  Bay  of  Manila,  and  between  the  two  acts  of  his  immor 
tality  enjoyed  the  most  renowned  breakfast  of  which  history  gives 
any  account.  (Laughter  and  applause.) 

I  precede,  also,  the  illustrious  §  commander  of  the  American  Army. 
(Applause.)  The  unconquered  and  unconquerable  Army;  (applause) 
and  the  army  to  which  I  never  belonged,  (laughter)  but  which  I  induced 
a  great  many  of  my  fellow  citizens  of  Tennessee  to  enter  during  the 
Spanish  war.  (Laughter  and  applause.)  And  I  beg  leave  to  say  for 
myself,  gentlemen,  that  whatever  may  have  been  the  conduct  of  the 

*  Stenographer's  report. 

fM.  Jules  Cambon. 

$  Admiral  George  Dewey. 

§  General  Nelson  A.  Miles.  93  ) 


94  THE  SOUTH  IN  THE  REVOLUTION 

soldiers  in  the  field,  there  was  no  man,  in  my  part  of  the  United  States, 
at  least,  who  uttered  more  sanguinary  sentiments  than  I  did,  at  the 
time.  (Laughter  and  applause.) 

There  is  another  gentleman  present  here  whom  I  am  embarrassed 
to  precede,  and  that  is  Mr.  Wetmore.  (Applause.)  I  have  somewhat 
against  Mr.  Wetmore.  I  appeared  at  the  banquet  with  him  four  years 
ago.  I  do  not  say  that  your  champagne  is  the  reason  of  the  President 
General's  limiting  it  to  two  years,  because  it  was  four  years  ago,  Mr. 
President,  and  Mr.  Wetmore  made  a  much  better  speech  than  I  did. 
The  only  consolation  that  I  have  is  that  he  made  a  better  one  than  any 
body  else.  So,  you  see,  that  I  labor  under  all  these  various  and  accu 
mulated  embarrassments.  I  labor,  also,  under  the  embarrassment 
now,  gentlemen,  that  I  have  taken  up  nearly  all  the  time  that  I  have 
allotted  to  me,  and  I  see  no  way  of  approaching,  with  propriety,  the  sub 
ject  which  has  been  assigned  me.  It  was  exceedingly  kind  in  the  Com 
mittee,  or  in  the  Secretaries,  because  this  Society  is  mainly  composed 
of  its  two  Secretaries;  (laughter)  the  two  Secretaries,  who  have  added 
to  their  secretarial  reputations  in  the  last  two  days,  that  of  being  the 
best  caterers,  in  Washington,  at  least,  (applause).  I  say,  it  was  very 
kind  of  these  two  gentlemen  to  allow  the  South  to  be  heard  at  all,  even 
through  so  unworthy  a  representative,  upon  an  occasion  like  this,  and 
upon  a  subject,  in  regard  to  which  he  has  the  right  to  be  proud.  (Ap 
plause.)  The  South,  you  know,  and  I  take  it  that  this  is  the  same  kind 
of  audience  that  had  me  make  a  semi-Confederate  speech  in  New  York, 
and  I  am  going  to  take  all  sorts  of  liberties  with  it,  as  I  have  been  taking 
with  my  subject — the  South  is  in  a  state  of  pupilage,  you  know;  and 
has  been,  for  a  long  time,  receiving  liberal,  wise,  and,  apparently,  inex 
haustible  instruction  in  public  morality.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  in 
Greater  New  York,  the  religious  and  moral  energies  of  the  people,  at 
this  time,  are  divided,  almost  equally,  between  two  very  commendable 
enterprises.  The  first  is,  the  enlightenment  and  conversion  of  the  South; 
and  the  second  is  one  that,  to  me,  as  an  enthusiastic,  if  not  a  good  Epis 
copalian,  appeals  especially;  that  second  purpose  seems  to  be  the  illu 
mination  and  the  conversion  of  Bishop  Potter.  (Laughter  and  applause.) 
I  have  great  hopes  that  the  Bishop  of  New  York  has  in  him  the  mak 
ing  of  the  kind  of  man  that  the  people  want  him  to  be,  up  there,  and 
there  is  a  prospect  of  his  being  reclaimed  from  his  vicious  ways.  If  the 
persistency  so  offered  to  redeem  him  should  be  anything  like  that  to 
redeem  the  South,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  result. 


THE   SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION  95 

But,  approximating  my  subject  a  little  more.  We,  down  South,  have 
had  our  moral,  and  intellectual,  and  other  inferiorities,  so  forcibly  pre 
sented  to  us  that  we  have  grown  a  little  sensitive  on  the  subject,  and 
we  naturally  like  to  feel  ourselves  at  liberty  to  say  anything — and  we 
naturally  like  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  opportunity  to  say  anything  good 
about  ourselves,  so  that  this  evening  I  am  sure  I  can  hope  for  your 
indulgence,  if  I  manifest  in  my  representative  capacity  a  little  of  that 
quality  which  is  becoming,  since  the  battle  of  Manila,  the  prominent 
American  characteristic,  and  indulge  in  some  expressions  of  self-satis 
faction. 

The  South  lives  in  the  hope  that  it  may  become,  after  awhile,  purely 
a  geographical  section,  and  not  a  political  section.  (Applause.) 

Now,  gentlemen,  that  is  about  as  trite  a  thing  as  any  one  can  say, 
and  you  are  exceedingly  obliging  in  applauding  it;  nevertheless,  I  feel 
what  I  say,  and  I  mean  what  I  say;  there  are  certain  things  that  we  can 
do.  Now,  I  told  one  of  my  friends  that  I  was  going  to  say  this,  and  he 
said  that  I  had  better  not  do  it;  but  I  am  going  to  say  it,  all  the  same. 
I  say  we  will  become  a  geographical,  and  not  a  political,  section.  Cer 
tain  things  will  help  very  much  to  that  end.  If  the  South — if  we  in  the 
South — can  abate  the  summariness  of  our  method  of  public  execution, 
if  I  make  myself  clear;  (laughter  and  applause)  and  what  is  more  impor 
tant,  even  than  that,  and,  at  the  same  time,  obviates  the  causes  of  that 
summariness,  and  if  our  friends  in  the  North  can,  upon  their  part,  abate 
a  little  of  the  copiousness  and  the  readiness  of  their  philanthropy  and 
benevolence,  or  will  even  divert  a  little  of  those  admirable  sentiments 
to  the  white  people  of  the  South,  we  may  hope  for  much.  (Applause.) 

The  South,  I  venture  to  say,  and  I  am  pursuing  my  announced  policy 
of  speaking  well  of  ourselves — the  South,  I  venture  to  say,  is  more  for 
giving,  and  more  tolerant,  than  those  of  our  fellow  citizens  dwelling  in 
more  Northern  latitudes.  (Applause.)  I  think  that  we  forgave  you 
for  succeeding  in  the  Civil  War,  or  the  great  American  War,  before  you 
forgave  us  for  failing  in  it.  (Laughter.)  I  think,  also,  that  we  are  more 
tolerant  in  this.  Whenever  a  race  riot  takes  place  in  Ohio,  or  Illinois, 
or  under  the  shadow  of  the  Cooper  Institute,  where  crusades  against  race 
prejudices  are  eloquently  and  enthusiastically  preached,  we  do  not  utter 
any  denunciations,  nor  do  we  send  you  any  missionaries.  We  recog 
nize  in  you  a  virtuous  and  well-disposed  people,  and  we  think  that  you 
are  entitled  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  an  occasional  aberration.  (Laughter.) 


96  THE   SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION 

Now,  Mr.  Toastmaster  and  Gentlemen,  on  the  last  occasion  on 
which  I  made  a  public  speech,  the  gentleman  preceding  me,  as  there 
was  an  hour  and  five  minutes  to  be  divided  between  us,  allowed  me  the 
five  minutes,  (laughter)  and  I  am  a  little  bit  in  danger  of  allowing  these 
distinguished  gentlemen  the  five  minutes,  although  I  take  it  that  none 
of  them  would  be  so  opposed  to  violating  the  Sabbath  as  I  would. 

But,  I  make  this  suggestion,  that  the  Spanish  War  taught  some 
very  admirable  lessons  to  all  of  us.  I  suggest,  further,  that  if  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States  will  come  South  occasionally,  and  repeat  his 
Charleston  speech,  or  make  other  speeches  like  it,  the  tide  of  good  feeling 
will  rise  so  high  in  this  country  that  it  will  obliterate  every  vestige  of 
sectional  lines  and  sectional  feeling.  (Applause.)  The  fact  is,  gen 
tlemen,  we  have  forgotten  all  about  it  ourselves. 

THE    SOUTH    IN   THE    REVOLUTION. 

If  any  gentleman  imagines  that  I  intend  to  offer  any  addition  to  the 
Washington  eulogies  he  is  mistaken.  I  desire  to  say  as  respectfully, 
and  as  seriously,  and  as  earnestly  as  any  one  can,  that  the  South  rejoices 
in  the  fact  that  George  Washington,  who  occupies  absolutely  the  fore 
most  and  the  most  enviable  place  in  the  world's  history,  was  one  of  her 
sons.  (Applause.)  I  mean  all  that  I  say.  I  do  not  believe  that  there 
is  a  man  in  the  sound  of  my  voice,  who,  if  he  had  his  choice  of  all  the 
names  and  all  the  fames  in  history,  would  not  take  the  name  and  fame 
of  George  Washington.  (Applause.)  Because  he  is,  above  all  others, 
and  will  be,  so  long  as  histories  are  written,  and  men  shall  live,  the  cham 
pion  of  liberty.  (Applause.)  There  are  certain  other  men  in  whom 
we  have  great  pride.  We  say  that  John  Marshall  was  the  foremost 
jurist  that  this  country  has  produced;  many  of  us  believe  that  Thomas 
Jefferson  was  the  foremost  political  philosopher  that  the  country  has 
produced,  and  I  believe  that  James  Madison  was  the  greatest  construct 
ive  statesman  that  this  country  has  produced;  but,  of  all  these  great 
Southern  men,  I  have  nothing  to  say,  tonight,  beyond  what  I  have  already 
said.  There  is  an  opinion  in  the  South  which,  if  erroneous,  is  also  harm 
less,  that  the  Revolution  and  the  Constitution,  were  the  work  of  South 
ern  men.  I  do  not,  for  myself,  unqualifiedly,  assert  this;  nevertheless, 
the  South  has  every  right  to  be  proud  of  her  part  in  the  Revolution.  There 
are  certain  minor,  and  less-known,  aspects  of  the  great  struggle  to  which, 


THE    SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION  97 

as  a  matter  of  personal  and  of  sectional  pride,  I  should  like  to  call  your 
attention  for  a  few  moments.  Enough  has  been  said,  I  suppose,  of  the 
Cavalier  ancestors  of  my  distinguished  Virginia  friend;  and  I  desire  to 
ask  your  attention,  just  for  a  moment,  to  the  part  taken  in  the  struggle 
for  independence  by  another  race,  to  which  I  have  the  honor  to  belong 
myself;  I  mean  the  Scotch-Irish.  (Applause.)  Until  the  last  decade, 
a  reader  of  American  history,  which  was  written  mainly  in  the  higher 
intellectual  atmosphere  of  New  England,  would  have  supposed,  natu 
rally,  and  not  without  some  justification,  that  all  the  good  and  the  great 
things  in  American  history  had  been  done  by  New  Englanders.  Since 
the  revival  of  the  interest  in  the  Scotch-Irish  in  the  South,  practically 
the  same  claims  are  made  for  that  race,  so,  in  the  years,  we  have  become 
actually  to  believe  almost  that  the  Scotch-Irishmen  did  it  all.  The 
Scotch-Irish  are  of  two  classes,  I  will  say,  in  passing;  and  I  say  it  be 
cause,  like  the  other  things  I  have  said,  it  is  not  at  all  apropos  to  my 
subject;  the  sweet  and  the  sour  Scotch-Irish.  The  sour  Scotch-Irish 
man  has  what  Carlyle  calls  the  sardonic  taciturnity,  and  a  generally 
sour  disagreeableness;  the  sweet  Scotch-Irishman  has  all  the  virtues  in 
their  perfection;  but,  whether  a  Scotch-Irishman  be  sour  or  sweet,  he 
is  two  other  things;  he  is  a  dictionary-democrat,  and  a  Presbyterian. 
(Laughter  and  applause.)  They  came  over  to  this  country  late.  If 
they  had  had  equal  opportunities  with  the  New  England  Puritans,  they 
would  have  possessed  New  England,  and  would  have  built  New  York 
City.  As  it  was,  they  came  to  find  the  coast-line  occupied;  all  the  better 
places  pre-empted.  Consequently,  they  were  driven  into  the  Piedmont 
country;  into  the  mountainous  regions,  and  they  have  settled  in  the  Hoi- 
stein  Valley,  and  in  the  upper  part  of  East  Tennessee,  at  the  time  of  the 
outbreak  of  the  Revolution,  and  they  established,  gentlemen,  in  the 
State  of  Tennessee,  alone,  four  distinct  and  independent  republics,  I 
think,  before  any  others  existed  in  this  country.  (Applause.) 

In  seventeen  hundred  and  eighty,  at  the  time  when  Lord  Cornwallis 
was  perfecting  his  arrangements  to  wind  the  folds  of  his  military  Ana 
conda  around  this  country,  to  crush  it  to  death,  he  sent  one  Major  Pat 
Ferguson  westward  towards  the  mountains,  and  Major  Ferguson  sent 
word  over  into  my  country,  where  my  ancestors  then  lived,  that  he  was 
coming,  and  that  the  people  must  make  settlement.  Instead  of  that,  they 
mustered,  Shelby  and  Sevier  from  the  Virginia  and  Tennessee  settle 
ments,  and  they  gathered  upon  the  Wautaga  River,  and  they  had  a  draft- 


Qo  THE  SOUTH  IN  THE  REVOLUTION 

ing,  but  the  drafting  was  not  to  determine  who  should  go  to  fight 
Ferguson,  but  who  should  stay  at  home.  Such  a  drafting,  I  venture 
to  say,  was  never  known  upon  the  earth  before.  They  crossed  the  moun 
tains,  they  met  Cleveland  and,  at  King's  Mountain,  they  annihilated 
Ferguson's  army;  Mr.  Jefferson  said  that  the  battle  of  King's  Mountain 
was  the  joyful  enunciation  of  that  turn  in  the  tide,  towards  success,  which 
stamped  the  Revolutionary  War  with  the  seal  of  independence.  There 
was  not  a  commissioned  officer;  there  was  not  a  uniform;  there  was  not 
a  regulation  sabre  or  musket  in  the  American  army  at  the  battle  of  King's 
Mountain;  that  was  in  October,  1780.  Not  long  before  that,  General 
Gates  had  been  defeated  at  Camden.  It  was  a  disaster,  and  we  con 
template  it  with  regret;  but  it  seems  to  have  been  the  traditional  method 
of  retiring  General  Gates  from  the  army.  Not  long  after  that  General 
Green  came  South  to  hunt  the  remnants  of  General  Gates'  army,  and, 
in  North  Carolina,  he  discovered  a  few  of  the  remnants,  many  of  them 
composed  of  good  material;  he  confirmed  the  arrangement  that  Gates 
had  made  at  Camden,  and  allowed  Daniel  Morgan  to  have  one  wing  of 
the  army,  saved  from  the  other.  I  wish  I  had  the  time  to  pause  and  say 
it.  Daniel  Morgan  is,  to  my  mind,  the  man  of  all  men,  in  the  patriot 
army,  who  has  received  the  least  justice  from  history.  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that,  after  Washington,  the  fame  rests  between  Green  and  Mor 
gan  for  the  best  soldiers  in  the  American  army.  Morgan  was  a  Penn- 
sylvanian,  from  Virginia,  and  Green  was  a  Rhode  Island  Yankee,  who 
finally  was  captured  by  the  State  of  Georgia.  He  has  been  buried  once 
there,  but  I  hope  it  will  be  done  well  again,  by  one  State  or  the  other. 

Meanwhile,  the  battle  of  Cowpens  occurred.  To  me  it  is  one  of 
the  most  pleasant  events  of  the  Revolution,  because  Tarleton  there  re 
ceived  the  thrashing  which  he  deserved  better  than  any  soldier  of  the 
British  army.  In  the  South,  at  least  to  this  day,  no  British  soldier  has 
so  odious  a  reputation  as  General  Tarleton — Colonel  Tarleton. 

I  must  pass  on  rapidly.  At  the  battle  of  Guilford  Court  House, 
General  Green,  who  had  executed  the  most  masterly  retreat  of  the  war, 
met  Cornwallis.  Green  had  forty-four  hundred  men,  of  whom  three 
hundred  were  veterans,  and  one  thousand,  or  more,  were  recruits,  and 
the  remainder  were  raw  militia  men.  These  raw  militia  men  did  not 
win  renown,  and  the  most  assiduous  and  sympathetic  friends  and  local 
historians  have  accomplished  a  very  imperfect  rehabilitation  of  their 
reputation.  Cornwallis  had  twenty-three  hundred  men,  the  best  of 


THE   SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION  99 

his  army.  Green  was  defeated,  and  retreated,  but  only  three  miles. 
Almost  immediately  afterwards,  Cornwallis,  having  contemplated,  with 
mingled  dismay  and  pleasure,  a  victory  where  his  men  had  accom 
plished  a  prodigious  failure,  and  where  they  left  more  than  one-quarter 
of  their  number  upon  the  field,  retreated  to  Wilmington.  Green  became 
the  pursuer,  but  his  course  was  to  the  South,  and  Cornwallis  was  headed 
to  the  North;  and  he  proceeded  north,  where,  in  due  course  of  time,  he 
received  the  attention  of  a  gentleman  who  was  known  to  the  Britishers 
of  that  period  as  a  Mr.  Washington,  of  Virginia,  in  company  with  cer 
tain  distinguished  gentlemen  and  friends.  General  Green  proceeded 
South,  and  his  subsequent  career  is  very  entertaining  and  interesting. 
At  Hobkirk's  Mill  he  was  defeated;  in  the  South  he  was  unsuccessful 
and  the  utmost  that  can  be  claimed  for  the  battle  of  Eutaw  is  that  it 
was  a  drawn  battle;  so  that  his  record  is  this:  he  was  defeated  at  Guil- 
ford,  at  Hobkirk's  Mill  he  was  repulsed,  and  he  retreated  at  the  same 
time  that  the  British  retreated  at  Eutaw;  but  there  was  this  singularity 
about  all  Green's  defeats  and  repulses;  immediately  after  each  of  them, 
the  British  retreated,  so  that,  at  the  end  of  a  long  series  of  defeats  and 
repulses,  Green  had  driven  the  remnant  of  the  British  army  into  the 
City  of  Charleston,  and  cooped  them  up  there;  that  is  the  only  record 
that  history  gives  of  a  series  of  unbroken  defeats  and  repulses  resulting 
in  the  most  satisfactory  success.  At  the  end  of  the  war,  General  Green 
received  the  thanks  of  Congress,  and  deserved  them.  He  also  received 
magnificent  gifts  of  land  in  the  South,  and  made  his  home  in  the  State 
of  Georgia.  Many  other  excellent  men  from  the  North  have  come  to 
the  South  to  live,  but  General  Green  is  conspicuous  among  the  number, 
by  reason  of  the  fact  that  he  is  the  only  one  of  them  who  ever  refused 
a  public  office.  (Laughter  and  applause.)  It  is  only  fair  for  me  to 
say,  gentlemen,  in  that  same  connection,  that  I  do  not  know  any  compeer 
of  my  own  who  has  ever  refused  an  office  of  any  kind. 

Now,  I  must  pass  on.  I  have  said  all  that  I  have  to  say  about  the 
South  in  the  Revolution  except  this:  the  battles  of  King's  Mountain 
and  Cowpens,  and  Guilford  Court  House  were  the  prelude  to  Yorktown, 
measured  by  the  result,  and  the  individual  efficiency;  possibly,  I  believe 
that  General  Green  must  be  declared  as  the  next  man  to  George  Wash 
ington  among  the  American  soldiers.  (Applause.)  I  do  not  believe 
that  we  can  over-estimate  his  importance,  and  this  I  say,  in  conclusion, 
upon  that  subject:  that  the  tools  with  which  General  Green  wrought 


100  THE    SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION 

were,  every  one  of  them,  soldiers  from  the  Southern  States,  and  most 
of  them  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians.  (Laughter  and  applause.)  I 
have  discovered  that  General  Green  has  five  descendants  in  my  imme 
diate  neighborhood,  upon  this  platform;  I  understand  they  are  all  de 
scendants  of  General  Green. 

Well,  now,  gentlemen,  let  us  say  just  one  word  more.  I  do  not  con 
cede  that  all  the  goodness  and  greatness  of  the  South  is  in  the  past.  I 
am  somewhat  intolerant  of  the  phrase,  "The  New  South,"  because,  so 
far  as  I  know,  there  is  nothing  new  in  the  South  particularly  except 
the  large  establishments  that  we  have  induced  you  to  come  down  there 
and  open  up  for  the  manufacture  of  our  cotton.  There  are,  also,  cer 
tain  very  large  tracts  of  land,  large  and  unimproved  tracts  of  land,  which 
are  designated  as  cities  (laughter)  in  local  nomenclature,  which  are  the 
result  of  more  successful  efforts  on  our  part  to  recoup  ourselves  for  the 
disasters  of  the  war.  (Laughter.)  I  am  going  to  do  like  my  friend 
upon  my  right,  omit  the  best  of  my  speech,  and  I  am  going,  with  delib 
erate  purpose,  to  endeavor  to  be  serious  for  a  moment  and  to  repeat 
something  that  I  said  in  New  York  four  years  ago,  because  it  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  say  to  people,  "I  told  you  so."  I  said,  speaking  of  the  ques 
tion  which  is  eternally  before  us  in  the  South — you  know,  we  hear  race, 
and  race  problems  talked  in  the  South,  until  we  are  almost  ready  to  die 
when  we  hear  the  word  mentioned.  We  live  and  move,  and  have  our 
being,  so  far  as  the  public  prints  are  concerned,  and  largely,  so  far  as 
public  speeches  are  concerned,  in  race  problems — problems  that  are  in 
the  paradoxical  condition  of  being  easiest  solved  by  those  who  know 
the  least  about  them.  Now,  when  I  was  up  in  New  York,  four  years  ago, 
I  said  something,  and  in  regard  to  that,  I  really  think  that  I  may  say 
"I  told  you  so."  I  said  to  my  friends  up  there,  and  they  were  good  enough 
to  applaud  it,  whether  from  sympathy  or  approval,  I  do  not  know — I 
said  to  them,  "You  have  your  race  problem  up  here,  which  is  a  more 
difficult  and  a  more  dangerous  one  than  ours  is."  I  tell  you,  my  dear 
friends,  that  not  only  do  we  get  along  with  our  colored  citizens  down 
South,  but  we  are  the  only  people  that  can  get  along  with  them.  (Applause.) 
Now,  I  say,  that  we  are  always  receiving  instructions  in  public  morality; 
but,  to  my  mind,  the  greatest  danger  that  besets  our  moral  body  is  indis 
criminate  foreign  immigration.  Now,  the  South  is  full  of  faults  and 
does  a  great  many  wrong  things,  I  know,  but  contrast  the  great  North 
western  State  of  Minnesota,  one  of  the  most  progressive  and  best  States 


THE    SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION  IOI 

in  the  Union,  against  which  I  have  nothing  to  say,  of  course,  with  its 
fifty  per  cent  of  foreign-born  population,  and  the  State  of  North  Carolina 
with  less  than  two  per  cent  of  foreign-born  white  population.  With  us 
the  immigration  seems  to  follow  other  lines;  it  has  not  come  South.  We 
have  no  pauper  immigration  in  the  South,  except  a  little  in  New  Orleans, 
and  that  has  been  somewhat  summarily  treated,  as  some  of  you  may 
remember.  We  have  had  almost  none  of  it.  I  remember,  that  at  the 
time  of  the  great  riot  in  Chicago,  I  saw  a  picture  which  I  have  never 
been  able  to  forget.  The  artist  had  represented  a  little  band  of  United 
States  soldiers  marching  down  the  railroad  track,  and  a  mass  upon  either 
side  of  them,  great  armies  of  men  and  women  with  foreign  faces.  For 
eign  faces  are  not  bad.  We  welcome  every  good  man  and  every  good 
woman  to  our  country;  (applause)  but  those  were  besotted  and  brutal 
foreign  faces,  and  the  legend  that  the  artist  had  put  under  the  picture 
was  this:  "To  hell  with  the  Government  of  the  United  States."  And 
when  President  Cleveland  sought,  by  pacific  means,  to  quell  the  riot, 
it  became  necessary  for  him,  I  think,  to  print  his  programme  in  seven 
different  languages.  We  receive,  every  year,  dumped  upon  our  shores, 
or  rather,  upon  your  shores,  vast  accumulations  of  the  filth  and  the  offal 
of  the  great  cities  of  Europe,  brought  over  here  to  ballast  the  great  ocean 
steamships,  and  cast  upon  our  shores,  to  rot  and  fester,  and  to  breed 
assassins.  We  are  charged  in  the  South,  not  with  fomenting,  but,  in  a 
measure,  with  tolerating  the  crime — mark  you,  I  call  it  a  crime — of  lynch 
ing.  Suppose,  my  fellow  citizens,  that  we  had  in  the  South  anywhere 
an  established,  permanent  organization  for  the  promotion  of  lynching, 
what  would  you  say?  I  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  you  have 
in  your  midst  a  well-known,  organized  establishment  for  the  promotion 
of  anarchy,  and  I  have  sometimes  regretted  that  you  did  not  send  it 
down  South,  to  learn  how  we  deal  with  such  things  there. 

Now,  gentlemen,  let  us  be  just  and  fair,  one  with  the  other.  I  have 
one  word  more  to  say  before  I  submit  to  the  execrations  of  these  gentle 
men,  whose  pardons  I  beg  all  that  I  can,  and  that  is  this,  that  we  must 
learn  to  respect  and  trust  one  another.  The  Southern  people  are  of 
the  same  blood  that  you  are;  they  are  of  the  same  language  that  you  are; 
they  are  of  the  same  political  principles  that  you  are;  (applause)  they 
are  of  the  same  religion  that  you  are;  they  have  your  traditions;  they 
have  your  love  of  liberty;  and  they  have  your  aspirations  for  their  own 
success  in  the  future,  and  for  the  success  of  our  country.  What  shall 


102  THE   SOUTH   IN  THE   REVOLUTION 

we  do,  standing  and  confronting,  as  we  do  today,  the  most  difficult  and 
the  most  dangerous  social  question  ever  presented  to  a  people?  We 
confront  it,  not  without  fear,  but  not  without  hope.  We  know  that 
there  is  but  one  way  in  which  we  can  deal  successfully  with  that  ques 
tion,  and  that  is,  to  the  best  of  our  ability,  and  with  every  effort  that  we 
command,  to  deal  with  it  rightly  and  justly.  It  is  my  own  belief  that 
the  people  from  whom  Washington,  and  Marshall,  and  Jefferson,  and 
Madison,  and  Lee,  and  Andrew  Jackson,  and  Andrew  Johnson,  and 
James  K.  Polk  were  sprung,  are  not  so  perverted  in  their  morals,  and 
not  so  lost  to  every  principle  of  decency  and  of  civilization,  that  we  can 
with  deliberate  purpose,  malicious  and  foul  intent,  mistreat  the  colored 
race,  who  are  our  wards.  (Applause:  A  voice,  "Never.") 

No:  Any  indictment  of  any  great  section  of  the  American  people, 
in  any  part  of  the  country,  is  necessarily  a  false  indictment.  (Applause.) 

Now,  I  say,  as  my  last  words,  the  only  way  that  we  can  deal  with 
this  question  is  the  right  way — the  just,  the  honorable,  the  honest  way; 
and,  in  the  presence  of  our  fellow-countrymen,  and  of  all  mankind,  and 
of  Providence,  we  intend  to  deal  with  it  in  that  way,  and  that  way  only; 
and,  finally,  I  say,  recurring  to  my  announced  policy,  that  is  my  judg 
ment  that  whatever  the  future  may  bring  for  our  country,  the  best  hope 
and  the  strongest  assurance  that  we  have  that  government  of  the  people, 
by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,  shall  not  perish  from  the  earth,  is  in 
the  sturdy  Americanism  of  the  people  of  the  Southern  States.  (Applause.) 


GOLDSMITH.* 

IT  would  have  been  difficult  to  assign  me  a  subject  more  to  my 
liking.  From  my  earliest  recollection  Goldsmith  has  been 
one  of  my  chief  sources  of  pleasure.  I  can  not  remember 
when  I  first  read  Irving's  account  of  him,  and  I  know  that  I 
have  read  it  at  least  four  times.  I  can  not  remember  when  I  did 
not  enjoy  the  "  Deserted  Village "  more  than  any  other  poem  in  the  lan 
guage.  Moses  and  the  Spectacles  are  among  the  things  which  I  seem 
to  have  known  about  always,  even  before  I  knew  of  Robinson  Crusoe 
and  Friday.  When  I  avow  my  affection  for  the  "Deserted  Village"  I 
do  not,  of  course,  mean  to  affirm  that  it  is  the  best  or  the  greatest  poem 
in  the  language,  but  only  that  to  my  untutored  taste  it  is  the  sweetest. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  rise  to  critically  correct  judgments  in  literature, 
or  indeed  in  anything  else,  but  have  acquired  the  bad  habit  of  preferring 
what  I  like.  Therefore  I  get  more  enjoyment  out  of  the  "Deserted 
Village"  than  from  reading  even  Lycidas,  or  any  other  of  the  greater 
English  short  poems  preferred  and  exalted  by  persons  of  more  critical 
and  of  better  judgment. 

I  have  had  always  a  sympathy  for  the  two  reputed  fools  of  the  John 
sonian  epoch,  Boswell  and  Goldsmith.  In  the  case  of  Boswell,  it  is  a 
mild  sympathy  combined  with  a  moderate  dissent;  in  that  of  Goldsmith, 
cordial  sympathy,  positive  dissent,  affection,  and  no  little  admiration. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  find  in  Boswell  anything  to  which  the 
affections  could  in  any  wise  attach  themselves,  but  with  Goldsmith  it  is 
different.  There  are  many  faults,  but  we  can  not  despise  men  because 
they  have  faults.  Both  Boswell  and  Goldsmith  have  been  the  victims 
of  epigrams,  and  the  butts  of  envious  satire;  Golsdmith  even  more  than 
Boswell,  certainly  more  unjustly.  It  was  witty  to  say  that  Goldsmith 
wrote  like  an  angel  and  talked  like  a  parrot,  and  it  sticks  in  the  memory. 
I  have  heard  men  quote  it  who,  I  am  sure,  never  had  read  a  word  of 
Goldsmith's  works.  Beyond  question  Goldsmith  was  one  of  the  most 
graceful  and  happy  writers,  in  prose  and  in  verse,  that  the  English  speak 
ing  countries  have  produced,  and  it  is  not  less  true  that,  comparatively, 
his  powers  of  conversation  were  strikingly  inferior.  But  we  exaggerate 
the  difference,  and  what  is  more  true  and  far  more  important,  we  draw 
excessive  inferences.  Let  us  not  forget  that  Johnson,  who  is  credited 

*  Irving  Club  Paper.  ( 103 ) 


104  GOLDSMITH 

with  certain  of  the  sharper  sayings  about  Goldsmith,  declared,  post  mortem, 
that  he  was  a  "very  great  man."  I  think  that  the  plain  facts  of  Goldsmith's 
history  give  a  clear  insight  into  his  character,  and  explain  the  striking  inferior 
ity  of  his  conversation  and  conduct.  I  trust  that  I  shall  give  no  offense  by 
the  prelusory  suggestion  that  the  Irish  nation,  which  has  produced  many  of 
the  most  brilliant  men  of  modern  times,  as  well  as  an  unlimited  number  of 
ancient  and  mediaeval  monarchs,  from  whom  no  doubt  several  of  us 
claim  descent,  has  a  certain  intellectual  headlongness  which  is  very  apt 
to  be  displayed  in  the  unreserve  of  conversation,  in  the  fervor  of  public 
speech,  and  in  conduct  under  sudden  or  strong  impulse. 

Goldsmith  had  this  peculiarity  in  a  pre-eminent  degree.  Inability 
to  foresee  the  consequences  of  any  course  of  action,  or,  apparently,  of 
anything  else  was  a  congenital  quality;  an  incurable  prodigality  marked 
him  from  childhood;  an  intensely  emotional  nature  afforded  every  oppor 
tunity  to  these  peculiarities,  and  the  conduct  of  his  whole  life  was  a  series 
of  blunderings  followed  by  hard  falls.  If  you  will  read  his  more  thought 
ful  and  aspiring  prose  writings  you  will  see  that  he  was  as  philosophical 
as  Bacon  or  Plato  in  his  mental  habit,  although  indisputably  less  pro 
found.  His  writings  in  serious  vein  are  those  of  a  learned  and  thoughtful 
man,  his  conduct  that  of  an  exceedingly  thoughtless  one,  his  conversation, 
frequently  undignified,  even  trivial.  Let  us  recall  how  he  began  to  stum 
ble  and  tumble  through  life  and  how  he  kept  it  up. 

Oliver  Goldsmith  was  born  Nov.  10,  1728,  at  the  hamlet  of  Pallas,  or 
Pallasmore,  County  Longford,  Ireland.  Irving  says  that  his  family  was  one 
of  those  that  "seem  to  inherit  kindliness  and  incompetency,  and  to 
hand  down  virtues  and  poverty  from  generation  to  generation."  Oliver's 
father,  the  Rev.  Charles  Goldsmith,  married  very  young  and  very  poor, 
and  whether  or  not  he  really  felt  "passing  rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year," 
he  seems  to  have  been  put  to  the  necessity  for  a  time  of  maintaining  a 
family  which  increased,  with  regularity  and  persistency,  on  an  income 
which  appears  not  to  have  exceeded  that  sum.  About  two  years  after 
Oliver's  birth,  however,  an  aunt  of  his  mother  died  and  a  farm  of  seventy 
acres  at  Lissoy  in  the  County  of  Westmeath  fell  to  the  family.  Here 
Oliver's  youth  was  passed,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  Lissoy 
was  the  deserted  village.  At  the  age  of  six  the  future  poet,  having  passed 
through  the  infant  seminary  kept  by  one  of  the  village  dames,  was,  for 
further  instruction,  committed  to  the  guidance  of  one  Paddy  Byrne,  who 
is  described  most  delightfully  in  the  poem  of  the  "Deserted  Village:" 


GOLDSMITH  105 

"A  man  severe  he  was  and  stern  to  view, 
I  knew  him  well,  and  every  truant  knew; 
Well  had  the  boding  tremblers  learn'd  to  trace 
The  day's  disasters  in  his  morning  face; 
Full  well  they  laughed,  with  counterfeited  glee, 
At  all  his  jokes,  for  many  a  joke  had  he; 
Full  well  the  busy  whisper  circling  round, 
Conveyed  the  dismal  tidings  when  he  frowned." 

This  pedagogue  seems  to  have  had  a  character  not  unlike  Oliver's  in 
some  respects,  and  among  a  large  number  of  accomplishments  of  a  minor 
kind  he  possessed  a  knack  of  rhyming  with  which  the  lad  by  whom  he  was 
to  be  immortalized  was  much  taken.  And  so  Oliver,  while  still  in  the 
lisping  period,  turned  to  numbers,  much  to  the  delight  and  pride  of  his 
mother,  his  first  critic  and  confidante.  The  small-pox  suspended  his 
rhyming  and  separated  him  from  Byrne.  After  his  recovery  he  was 
placed  under  a  preceptor,  who  bore  the  portentous  name  of  Griffin,  under 
whom,  nevertheless,  he  made  no  particular  progress.  Mainly  by  virtue 
of  his  rhymes,  however,  he  came  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  genius  of  the 
family,  no  family  being  complete  then,  as  now,  without  a  genius,  and 
therefore  was  regarded  as  especially  fitted  for  college  training.  The 
family  resources  were  not  yet  without  limit  and  he  was  fortunate  in  evoking 
for  the  first  of  many  times  the  generosity  of  an  uncle,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Contarine.  Thus  aided  he  was  sent  successively  to  a  school  at  Athlone, 
and  to  one  at  Edgeworthestown,  in  both  of  which  he  continued  to  display 
capacity,  indolence  and  carelessness.  The  last  of  the  places  named  was 
twenty  miles  from  his  home,  and  an  incident  of  his  final  homeward  jour 
ney  is  at  once  an  entertaining  and  important  part  of  his  history. 

The  journey  was  marked  by  certain  unwonted  dignities,  among  them  a 
horse  and  a  guinea.  These  unusual  features  turned  the  head  of  Oliver,  who 
was  himself  just  turned  sixteen,  and  he  decided  to  make  the  most  of  his 
opportunities.  Instead  of  completing  the  journey  in  one  day,  as  he  might 
have  done,  easily,  he  tarried  for  a  night  in  the  village  of  Ardagh.  Call 
ing  upon  the  first  person  he  met  for  directions  to  an  inn,  "the  best  house," 
he  was  directed  to  a  family  mansion,  his  informant  being  a  professional 
jester.  The  house  was  owned  by  a  Mr.  Featherstone,  who  was  some 
what  taken  aback  when  this  young  and  by  no  means  imposing  gentle 
man  rode  up,  peremptorily  ordered  his  horse  to  be  taken  to  the  stable, 


IO6  GOLDSMITH 

took  possession  of  the  parlor  and  imperiously  required  supper,  but  being 
an  Irishman  and  not  averse  to  his  joke,  he  gave  his  guest  full  scope. 
At  supper  Oliver  invited  the  landlord  and  his  wife  and  daughter  to  join  him, 
and,  still  further  condescending,  ordered  a  bottle  of  wine  for  their  com 
mon  edification,  and  having  finished  gave  special  directions  for  a  hot 
cake  at  breakfast.  In  the  morning  he  was  enlightened  and  we  cannot 
doubt  that  he  was  properly  confused  and  dismayed,  but  we  must  con 
gratulate  him  upon  the  admirable  use  to  which  he  puts  the  incident  in 
"She  Stoops  to  Conquer." 

Not  to  go  too  much  into  details  of  his  early  life,  I  mention  that 
at  the  University  of  Dublin  he  was  a  sizer,  or  poor  scholar,  with  free 
board  and  tuition,  rendering  such  compensatory  and  indisputably 
valuable  services  as  sweeping  the  courts,  and  carrying  the  dishes  up 
from  the  kitchen  at  meal  times.  His  teacher  was  devoted  to  the 
sciences  and  hard  work,  and  he  to  the  classics,  and  indolence.  Clashes 
were  made  the  more  certain  by  the  tutor's  temper,  which  was  one  of  the 
quickest  and  worst.  Goldsmith's  father  died  in  1747,  and  the  unsatis 
factory  college  course  was  prolonged  with  great  difficulty  by  his  uncle's 
charity,  aided  by  occasional  commerce  with  the  pawnbrokers  and  the 
writing  of  street  ballads.  The  climax  of  his  college  woes  was  reached 
upon  a  certain  occasion  when  in  violation  of  the  rules  he  was  feasting 
some  friends  in  his  room,  a  portion  of  these  friends  being  ladies.  The 
hilarity  of  the  party  attracted  the  attention  and  provoked  the  ready 
wrath  of  his  tutor,  who  raging  in  upon  the  scene  of  the  festivities  first, 
after  the  good  custom  of  the  time,  thrashed  Goldsmith  and  then  effected 
the  contumelious  ejection  of  his  astonished  and  indignant  guests.  Humil 
iated  beyond  measure,  poor  Oliver  sold  his  books  to  raise  money  to  carry 
him  to  parts  remote,  but  could  not  forego  the  delights  of  Dublin  until 
his  funds  were  reduced  to  a  single  shilling.  With  this  ample  provision 
he  started.  For  three  days  he  subsisted  upon  his  shilling,  and  then  re 
vealing  his  forlorn  condition  to  his  brother,  was  prevailed  upon  to  return 
to  the  University,  where  he  remained  two  years  longer.  In  1749  he 
received  the  degree  of  B.  A.  and  reluctantly  consented  to  prepare  for 
sacred  orders,  which  he  did  by  doing  nothing  for  two  years.  In  due 
time  he  presented  himself  to  the  Bishop  and  was  rejected,  some  say  on 
account  of  the  scarlet  breeches  in  which  he  affronted  the  Episcopal  dig 
nity.  He  then  became  a  private  tutor,  and  held  that  position  until  he 
quarreled  with  his  employer.  Then  having  bought  a  horse  and  having 


GOLDSMITH  IOJ 

in  his  pocket  the  unheard  of  sum  of  thirty  pounds,  he  again  started  out 
to  see  the  whole  earth.  A  few  weeks  later  he  appeared  at  home  without 
a  shilling,  and  reduced  from  his  steed  to  a  "sorry  little  pony,"  bearing 
the  undignified  name  of  Fiddle-back.  The  several  occurrences  above 
recited  were  regarded  by  the  family  as  demonstrating  an  aptitude  for 
the  law,  and  his  Uncle  Contarine  gave  him  fifty  pounds  with  which  he 
started  for  London  and  which,  having  progressed  to  Dublin,  he  lost  to 
the  last  penny  in  a  gambling  house.  It  is  related  that  the  family  now 
became  disheartened,  and,  that  some  of  them  even  manifested  symptoms 
of  impatience. 

Soon  after  this  escapade  one  Dean  Goldsmith,  of  Cloyne,  the 
official  head  of  the  family,  visited  Uncle  Contarine,  and  with  a  per 
spicacity  worthy  of  his  high  reputation  discoverd  in  Oliver  the  capabil 
ities  of  a  doctor  of  physic.  Thereupon,  the  Dean  furnishing  the  advice, 
and  Uncle  Contarine  the  money,  Oliver  hied  himself  in  1752  to  the  ancient 
city  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  attended  lectures,  squandered  his  money, 
cultivated  conviviality,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  gambled  a  good  deal. 
Having  spent  two  winters  in  Edinburgh,  he  concluded  that  the  proper 
development  of  his  talents  required  a  course  in  a  Continental  University. 
The  unfailing  uncle  again  became  his  banker,  and  aiming  at  Leith,  in 
Holland,  he  landed  at  Bordeaux,  which,  everything  considered,  was  for 
him  an  unusually  accurate  result.  Thence  he  contrived  to  make  his 
way  to  Leyden  and  the  resumption  of  his  studies  in  physic.  Here  he 
remained  a  year,  in  an  unvarying  state  of  extreme  impecuniosity.  Then 
he  borrowed  money  to  go  to  Paris,  but  it  was  the  time  of  the  tulip  mania 
in  Holland,  and  strolling  one  day  in  a  garden  he  remembered  that  Uncle 
Contarine  was  a  lover  of  tulips.  Thereupon  he  bought  a  choice  bulb, 
without  asking  the  price,  and  was  compelled  to  pay  for  it  all  the  money 
he  had  borrowed.  Having  no  hope  of  borrowing  more  he  set  out  for  a 
tour  of  the  continent  on  foot,  in  February,  1755,  being  equipped  for  the 
undertaking  with  two  shirts,  one  guinea  and  a  flute.  Undoubtedly  he 
now  became  the  philosophic  vagabond  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Some 
how  he  got  to  Paris,  where  he  attended  lectures  on  Chemistry,  and  not  less 
diligently  went  to  the  theatre.  Thence  he  went  to  Germany  and  Switzer 
land,  and  possibly,  from  Geneva,  sent  his  brother  a  sketch  which  was  the 
basis  of  his  poem  the  Traveler. 

For  two  years  he  wandered  footing  and  fluting  over  the  continent,  return 
ing  to  England  in  1756.  There  he  first  appears  definitely  strolling  the  streets 


IO8  GOLDSMITH 

of  London,  and  then  as  an  usher.  In  this  last  position  he  was  very  miserable, 
and  apparently  for  good  cause.  Surrendering  it  in  disgust  he  secured  employ 
ment  as  a  chemist's  assistant.  A  little  later  he  met  Dr.  Sleigh,  who  had  been 
his  tutor  at  Edinburgh,  by  whose  advice  he  attempted  to  practice  medicine. 
The  scarcity  of  patients  drove  him  to  the  pen,  and  finally  he  was  introduced 
to  Richardson,  the  publisher  and  novelist.  He  was  afterwards  principal 
of  an  academy  at  Peckham  for  a  while,  but  from  his  appearance  at  London 
his  drift  was  toward  literature,  and  the  result  is  well  known.  Into  his 
literary  life  with  its  alternating  successes  and  failures,  plenty  and  poverty, 
joys  and  sorrows,  renown  and  miseries,  I  shall  not  enter  in  detail,  for 
want  of  time.  The  facts  which  have  been  related  are  sufficient  to  show 
what  manner  of  man  he  really  was  and  to  furnish  the  basis  for  a  just 
judgment  of  him.  It  would  be  pleasant  to  me  to  carry  the  narrative 
further,  to  tell  how  Johnson  sold  the  manuscript  of  the  Vicar  for  him  to 
pay  him  out  of  an  arrest  for  debt;  how  the  comedy  of  the  Good  Natured 
Man  was  played  and  failed;  how  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  was  applauded 
into  success  on  the  first  night  by  a  claque  headed  by  the  greatest  of  all 
English  moralists;  how  everybody  fell  in  love  with  the  poems  as  soon  as 
they  appeared;  how  Goldsmith  became  a  professor  without  a  salary; 
how  he  compiled  histories  of  many  nations,  and  wrote  a  grammar,  and 
finally  "expatiated  free"  over  the  whole  field  of  animated  nature;  how  he 
was  lampooned,  and  suffered  under  it;  how  he  became  angry  and  at 
tacked  one  of  his  critics  with  a  club;  how  he  wantoned  in  luxury  to-day, 
and  wept  in  penury  to-morrow;  how  he  could  not  resist  the  gaming 
table,  any  more  than  an  appeal  from  any  source  whatsoever  to  his  liber 
ality.  It  would  not  be  pleasant,  though,  to  tell  how  he  died  ten  thousand 
dollars  in  debt  by  reason  of  his  ill-ordered  virtues,  no  less  than  his  vices. 
I  have  recounted  none  of  the  incidents  which  show  his  generosity 
and  his  tenderness  of  heart,  nor  have  I  quoted  from  the  rich  store  of  his 
humor,  but  why  prove  what  everybody  knows?  I  append  an  incomplete 
list  of  his  works: 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  1766. 

The  Citizen  of  the  World,  1760-1762. 

Essays,  1758-1765. 

Present  State  of  Polite  Learning,  1759. 

Life,  Bolingbroke,  1770. 

Life,  Thos.  Parnell,  1768. 

Life,  Voltaire,  1759. 


GOLDSMITH  IOQ 

Life,  Richard  Nash,  1759. 
The  Traveler,  1764. 
Deserted  Village,  1770. 
The  Hermit  (ballad),  1776. 
Retaliation,  1774. 
Good  Natured  Man,  1768. 
She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  1773. 

History  of  England, . 

Short  Survey  of  Experimental  Philosophy. 

History  of  Philosophy. 

English  Grammar. 

Roman  History. 

Animated  Nature,  and  a  host  of  minor  publications. 

Did  ever  author  do  things  of  so  many  kinds,  so  well? 

Johnson  was  a  poet,  but  a  very  inferior  one,  a  novelist  before  the  full 
day  of  the  modern  novel,  but  not  nearly  so  good  as  Goldsmith;  an  essayist, 
but  his  essays  are  now  without  readers;  a  dramatist,  but  a  most  prosy, 
ponderous  and  unsuccessful  one.  Goldsmith  wrote  the  two  best  poems, 
the  best  story,  and  one  of  the  best  comedies  of  his  age,  was  one  of  the 
most  skillful  compilers  the  world  has  ever  seen,  and  certain  of  his  original 
essays  still  hold  high  rank.  I  have  never  known  a  man  or  woman  who 
had  read  anything  that  had  not  read  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  I  have 
never  known  anyone  who  cared  for  poetry  that  did  not  love  the  Traveler 
and  the  Deserted  Village.  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  will  continue  to 
be  a  favorite  of  play-goers  until  Salome  and  Sappho  and  their  congeners 
monopolize  the  stage.  These  greater  works  of  Goldsmith  are  beyond 
the  need  of  history  and  criticism.  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  has  entered 
into  the  very  life  of  English  speaking  peoples,  almost  as  much  as  the 
King  James  translation  of  the  Bible.  It  is  a  part  of  England  and  the 
English,  of  America  and  the  Americans.  We  think  and  talk  it  uncon 
sciously.  In  preparing  for  this  paper  I  have  tried  to  go  beyond  the  better 
known  works,  and  to  extend  my  own  knowledge.  Having  in  my  library 
three  volumes,  not  much  read,  of  his  miscellaneous  prose  works,  I  have 
dipped  into  them,  so  far  as  time  allowed,  and  have  been  well  repaid. 
In  literary  quality  they  are  equal  to  the  best  that  we  have  seen  from 
the  author  elsewhere.  There  are  the  same  purity,  felicity,  and  accuracy 
of  diction,  and  a  surprising  thoughtfulness.  You  discover  that  the 
writer  has  read  widely,  and  thought  not  a  little;  perhaps  it  is  the  kind  of 


I IO  GOLDSMITH 

thinking  that  comes  from  the  activity  of  the  logical  faculty  in  writing 
rather  than  the  fruit  of  habitual  meditation,  but  it  is  very  good,  however 
engendered.  We  were,  or,  at  least  I  was,  so  long  accustomed  to  think 
of  the  Vicar,  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  and  the  Deserted  Village,  as 
abnormal  productions,  somewhat  of  the  order  of  Blind  Tom's  compo 
sitions  in  music,  that  it  is  extremely  instructive  and  corrective  to  read 
Goldsmith's  original  essays.  In  the  first  few  pages  of  the  Polite  Learning 
I  found  a  suggestion  of  Buckle's  dogma  about  the  effects  upon  races  of 
men  of  "Climate, food, soil  and  the  aspects  of  nature, "and  a  more  remote 
suggestion  of  Comte's  arrangement  of  the  stages  of  human  progress.  I 
mention  these  things  only  as  proofs  that  Goldsmith  was  not  a  fool  with 
lucid  intervals,  but  was  really  a  man  of  learning  and  thought,  whose 
few  more  famous  writings  are  not  the  products  of  abnormal  conditions, 
but  are,  instead,  the  natural  and  legitimate  products  of  a  genius  of  a  high 
order,  not  of  a  gift  of  writing  or  expression,  without  any  power  of  thought, 
but  of  a  keen  and  cultivated  intelligence  with  an  almost  unsurpassed  faculty 
of  utterance. 

These  are  pretty  strong  statements,  and  it  may  be  that  they 
are  unnecessary,  as  you  may  not  have  received  the  impression  that 
Goldsmith  was  an  inspired  fool,  which  was  forced  upon  me  by  many 
readers  and  teachers  of  English  in  my  youth.  But  was  not  he  fool,  after 
all,  on  one  side?  The  theory  of  the  simplicity  and  unworldliness  of 
genius  will  not  quite  meet  the  demands  of  the  case.  Let  me  say  first 
that  his  faults  have  been  exaggerated.  A  Johnson,  a  Macaulay,  a  Carlyle, 
always  puts  things  well  and  strongly.  What  they  say  is  the  strongest 
and  most  effective  statement.  It  is  the  finished  rhetorical  view,  always 
to  be  distrusted  for  accuracy,  and  rarely  admitting  any  of  the  qualifi 
cations,  or  displaying  any  of  the  tolerations  that  we  of  necessity  and  justice 
manifest  in  actual  life.  Again  Goldsmith  was  a  very  conspicuous  and 
much  envied  man,  and  it  is  altogether  possible  that  while  we  know  more 
of  his  faults  than  of  those  of  less  prominent  men,  he  did  not  really  have 
more  than  the  average  sane  and  prosaic  man.  Not  less  probable  is  it 
that  jealousy  has  had  something  to  do  with  the  matter.  If  I  say  that 
Johnson  had  a  hypochondria  that  amounted  almost  to  insanity  you  will 
reply,  "yes,  but  he  did  not  say  or  do  so  silly  and  childish  things  as  Gold 
smith  did."  I  am  not  clear  as  to  this  proposition.  However,  I  will  not 
traverse  it,  but  will  admit  that  Goldsmith  lacked  dignity,  and  was  over- 
impulsive,  but  we  must  not  forget  that  the  Great  First  Consul  of  France 


GOLDSMITH  III 

played  prisoner's  base,  and  with  the  very  same  headlongness  and  failure 
to  see  obstacles  and  consequences  that  characterized  Goldsmith,  ran 
so  fast  and  heedlessly  that  he  was  constantly  breaking  his  consular  shins 
and  getting  most  unconsular  tumbles.  But  Goldsmith  was  vain  of  per 
son  and  apparel.  Well,  who  is  free  from  vanity  of  either  kind  ?  Napoleon 
was  the  best  dressed  man  in  France,  and  the  resistless  Murat  the  most 
splendidly  arrayed.  Washington  was  of  resplendent  raiment,  and  Caesar 
was  a  sybarite  in  personal  taste  and  habits.  Plutarch  will  convince 
you  that  no  man  can  be  vainer  than  Cicero.  Goldsmith  was  jealous, 
but  less  so  than  most  men  of  renown,  and  his  jealousy  was  evanescent, 
died  in  a  moment.  He  lacked  self-control,  but  that  is  one  of  the  cus 
tomary  and  tolerated  peculiarities  of  genius,  and  especially  of  the  poetical, 
and  idealistic  temperament,  and  it  was  much  less  conspicuous  in  him 
than  in  Shakespeare,  Byron,  Shelly,  Keats  or  Poe.  These  are  some  of 
the  more  effective  palliations  for  indisputable  weakness  that  occur  to 
me  now.  Their  sufficiency  may  be  questioned,  but  I  trust  that  you  will 
not  consider  them  as  entirely  without  validity. 

As  this  section  of  our  studies  is  devoted  to  novelists,  let  me  say  a 
little  more  as  to  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  in  conclusion,  and  in  technical 
fulfillment  of  my  assignment.  I  assume  that  everyone  knows  the  book, 
and  has  read  it  several  times.  I  do  not  know  to  what  extent,  if  any,  it  is 
going  out  of  fashion  in  the  present  sophisticated  generation,  but  to  my 
generation  and  the  one  preceding  it,  the  Vicar  was  next  after  the  Bible. 
No  contemporary  or  elder  of  my  time  but  knew  Dr.  Primrose,  his  piety, 
his  patience,  his  loquacity,  his  pedantry,  undeniable,  but  inoffensive; 
his  pride  of  learning  and  of  family,  his  charity,  and  finally  his  over 
whelming  and  undeserved,  though  ultimately,  well  rewarded  woes.  It 
is  very  clear  that  the  clever  but  uninventive  Goldsmith  was  making  use  of 
Job,  when  he  portrayed  Dr.  Primrose,  clothing  the  man  of  Uz  in  eighteenth 
century  clericals.  The  origin  of  the  incomparable  Doctor  is  the  more  mani 
fest  in  the  fact  that  in  the  beginning  he  was  that  rare  phenomenon,  a  rich 
preacher.  But  his  riches,  like  Job's,  took  wings  and  flew  away;  the  com 
mercial  achievements  of  Moses,  his  son,  depleted  the  pitiful  residue,  and 
his  own  gullible  kindness  completed  the  waste;  fire  destroyed  his  house; 
a  villian  ran  away  with  his  daughter  Olivia;  the  same  villian  had  put 
him  in  jail  for  debt;  then  he  was  told  of  the  death  of  the  erring  but  re 
pentant  Olivia;  in  the  jail  he  worked  wonders  of  benevolence  and  refor 
mation,  then  he  heard  of  the  kidnapping  of  his  other  daughter,  and  finally 


112  GOLDSMITH 

his  first  born  son  was  brought  to  the  jail  in  chains.  Then  it  is  that,  like 
Job,  he  reaches  the  limit  of  endurance,  and  happily  also  the  turning 
point  of  his  fortunes.  The  real  hero  of  the  play  rescues  the  kidnapped 
daughter,  his  son  is  cleared,  the  dishonored  Olivia,  supposed  to  be  dead, 
re-appears,  and  a  reformed  villian  reveals  that  she  was  lawfully  married 
and  is  an  honest  woman.  The  hero,  who  has  been  masquerading  as  a 
poor  man,  proves  to  be  a  rich  baronet,  of  much  renown,  and  marries  the 
rescued  daughter.  The  lost  fortune  is  found,  all  the  girls  in  the  book 
are  happily  married;  virtue  is  richly  rewarded  on  every  hand;  vice  is 
condignly  punished;  joy  is  unconfined,  and  it  was  not  less  true  of  the 
Vicar  than  of  Job,  that  his  latter  end  was  blessed  more  than  his  beginning. 
Hear  him  say:  "I  had  nothing  now  on  this  side  of  the  grave  to  wish  for; 
all  my  cares  were  over;  my  pleasure  was  unspeakable.  It  now  only 
remained  that  my  gratitude  in  good  fortune  should  exceed  my  former 
submission  in  adversity."  The  dear  Doctor  is  not  made  perfect.  I 
have  learned  not  to  class  pedantry,  in  its  milder  forms  at  least,  as  a  failing, 
but  then  the  Doctor  had  also  temper,  though  not  much,  and  vanity, 
though  in  amiable  manisfestation,  and  was  not  without  recognition  of 
the  importance  of  wealth  and  social  position.  His  wife  was  a  weaker 
vessel,  though  a  sound  one.  Her  social  aspirations,  her  maternal  man 
euvers,  are  not,  however,  so  much  reprehensible  as  entertaining,  and, 
upon  the  whole,  while  she  shed  "some  natural  tears,"  like  her  mother  Eve 
she  "wiped  them  soon,"  and  played  the  part  of  the  spouse  of  her  afflicted  Job 
fairly  well.  The  girls  are  all  amiability  and  sweetness,  not  without  weakness, 
and  so  soon  as  we  find  that  Olivia  was  really  married  we  readily  forgive 
the  elopement.  That  Sophy  should  marry  the  disguised  baronet  is  most 
acceptable.  There  is  nothing  that  people  enjoy  in  a  book  so  much  as 
the  marriage  of  a  good  and  beautiful  heroine  to  a  brave  and  rich  hero. 
Such  a  union  is  the  only  proper  or  even  tolerable  ending  for  a  novel,  and 
I  join  most  heartily  with  that  large  and  intelligent  element  of  society 
which  demands  that  all  novels  end  happily.  So  far  as  the  realities  of 
life  are  concerned,  we  cannot  have  our  own  way,  and  many  bad  endings 
are  inevitable,  but  your  novelist  is  your  genuine  magician  and  can  make 
his  own  endings,  and  he  is  a  wilful,  perverse  and  morbid  nuisance  if  he 
allows  them  to  be  bad.  Sometimes  he  says  his  art  requires  the  death  of 
his  hero  or  heroine,  and  the  omission  of  the  wedding,  but  for  my  part  I 
say  that  such  miscarriages  and  fiascoes  can  result  only  from  the  want 
of  art.  Given  a  hero  and  a  heroine  of  marriageable  age,  the  wedding  is 


GOLDSMITH  113 

the  only  natural,  proper  or  permissible  finale.  Goldsmith  gives  us  two 
weddings  and  reveals  a  third.  This  is  a  good  measure  and  a  grateful 
public  has  applauded  him  accordingly  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years. 
Burchill,  the  concealed  baronet,  is  a  fine  fellow,  and  plays  well  the 
part  of  Prince  Bountiful.  Moses  I  love  for  his  trading.  My  affections 
extend  to  Dick  and  Bill,  and  indeed,  embrace  most  cordially  all  the 
Primroses.  To  a  man  or  woman  who  likes  the  atrabilious  books  of  Mr. 
Hall  Caine,  or  the  artificial  problems  and  philosophic  dabblings  of  Mrs. 
Humphrey  Ward;  or  the  esoteric  exposition  of  the  warfare  of  the  sexes 
and  the  tentative  marriages  of  Mr.  George  Meredith;  or  the  filthiness 
which  Mr.  Thomas  Hardy  calls  purity;  or  who  kow-tows  and  then  kow 
tows  again  when  Balzac's  name  is  named,  and  demands  clamorously 
for  the  author  of  the  Droll  Stories,  the  place  so  long  held  by  the  unworthy 
author  of  Hamlet;  this  simple,  little  and  hopelessly  clean  book,  a  re 
dressing  of  the  age-old  story  of  job,  with  a  little  of  the  crude  art  of  the 
mediaeval  novel,  and  of  the  cruder  art  of  the  fairy  tales,  must  of  neces 
sity  be  a  very  trifling  affair.  And  yet  it  lives — lives  lustily,  with  reasonable 
pron  ise  of  living  always.  I  do  not  attempt  to  explain  its  immortality, 
but  am  content  with  the  fact. 

It  gives  me  great  joy  to  believe  that  Mr.  Thomas  Hardy's  essays  in 
lubricity,  heralded  with  loud  trumpeting,  supremely  excellent  from  the 
critical  point  of  view,  and  of  assured  immortality,  have  lapsed  into  com 
parative  obscurity  in  a  decade,  while  Dr.  Primrose  has  outdone  Job  in 
respect  of  living.  For  Job,  after  his  troubles,  lived  140  years,  while  the 
Doctor  now  lives  in  the  hearts  of  millions  of  readers,  after  almost  150 
years.  One  more  heterodox  remark  and  I  pass  on.  I  profess  my  total  in 
ability  to  see  why  there  is  not  as  much  human  nature  in  the  Vicar  as  in 
that  famous  and  much  praised  story  by  Balzac,  wherein  a  father  forwards 
the  happiness  of  his  daughter  by  aiding  her  in  the  most  shameful  courses. 
At  the  same  time  I  do  not  claim  to  know  much  of  the  middle  class  human 
nature  of  Paris,  and  I  suppose  there  is  no  use  denying  that  the  ugly 
things  in  human  nature  alone  are  worthy  of  the  novelists'  attention. 

I  see  that  I  have  strayed  pretty  far  from  my  subject,  and  so  returning, 
let  me  say  of  the  Vicar  that  it  is  a  good  story;  one  that  interests  the  reader, 
which  I  make  bold  to  declare  the  first  merit  of  a  story.  It  has  a  plot  well 
worked  out.  It  is  not  devoid  of  incident,  but  it  is  not  a  story  of  action. 
It  is  rich,  opulent  in  humor;  it  abounds  in  sentiment,  of  the  right  kind, 
and  without  excess.  It  has  an  elopement,  but  the  breaking  of  the 


114  GOLDSMITH 

seventh  commandment  is  not  the  predominant  theme,  as  it  is  in  so  many 
of  the  most  approved  novels  of  our  time.  It  is  a  decent,  clean  story. 
Our  children  read  it,  and  ought  to  read  it.  It  is  written,  as  all  of  Gold 
smith's  works  are,  delightfully.  It  has  been  one  of  the  most  popular 
books  in  the  world,  ever  since  it  was  published,  and  it  deserves  all  its 
popularity.  It  may  be  taken  as  certain  that  Dr.  Primrose  is  a  free-hand, 
but  not  irreverent  or  unfilial  sketch  of  Goldsmith's  father.  If  it  be  true 
that  Mr.  Micawber  was  drawn  from  the  father  of  Charles  Dickens,  it 
must  be  conceded  that  Goldsmith  was  a  much  more  respectful  son  than 
Dickens,  for  the  good  doctor  is  a  very  fine  and  lovable  character.  Moses 
has  so  many  of  Oliver's  own  traits  that  the  connection  between  the  two  is, 
to  me,  very  apparent.  Commercially  Moses  is  indisputably  Oliver. 

It  seems  to  be  true  that  in  all  his  imaginative  writings  Goldsmith 
drew  constantly  on  his  own  experiences  and  therefore  there  is  a  sort  of 
photographic  verity  in  his  portrayals  of  incident  and  character  very  ex 
ceptional  in  such  works.  He  holds  the  mirror  up  to  nature  in  a  very  real 
sense,  and  I  think  the  capacity  which  he  displays  constantly  to  idealize 
and  adorn  the  actual  and  the  commonplace,  without  any  sacrifice  of 
essential  truth,  is  the  first  and  highest  quality  of  a  novelist.  It  seems 
to  be  a  maintainable  generalization  that  the  poems  and  novels  that  deal 
thus  with  the  actual  life  in  all  its  details,  are  the  most  favored  and  ad 
mired,  as  well  as  the  most  valuable.  Is  not  this  the  cause,  in  large  part, 
of  the  high  esteem  in  which  the  Homeric  Epics  are  held  ?  Possibly  the 
remark  will  apply  to  the  intellectual,  as  well  as  the  natural  life,  and  will 
explain  in  part  the  vitality  of  the  Divine  Comedy  by  its  fidelity  to  the 
intellectual  life  of  the  middle  ages.  However,  I  will  not  press  the  propo 
sition  too  far.  It  should  be  remembered  that  while  Goldsmith's  ability  to 
work  over  the  incidents  of  actual  life  for  literary  uses  was  one  of  his 
conspicuous  virtues,  the  extent  to  which  he  carries  the  habit  indicated  also 
a  deficiency.  That  he  lacked  invention,  or  did  not  often  employ  it,  can 
hardly  be  denied.  His  use  of  the  things  he  had  seen  and  done  was  very 
like  the  use  he  made  of  other  men's  works  in  his  compilations.  As  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  an  Irishman  could  have  been  entirely  without  in 
vention,  we  may  attribute  this  reminiscent  habit,  in  part,  to  indolence, 
in  which  we  know  Goldsmith  was  not  lacking. 

I  am  willing  to  admit  that  in  his  work  in  verse  and  in  prose,  there  is  an 
equality,  or,  to  put  it  badly,  a  sameness.  Uniform  excellence  is  a  char 
acteristic.  It  may  not  be  claimed  that  it  is  the  highest  excellence,  but  it  is 


GOLDSMITH  115 

excellence.  The  heights  which  Shakespeare  trod  are  far  beyond  him 
as  a  poet;  he  has  none  of  the  passion  of  Shelley,  and  his  melodies  do  not 
soar  like  those  of  Burns,  but  flow  gently  in  minor  tones,  always  affecting, 
pleasing,  restful. 

I  have  heard  in  a  great  harmony,  whose  highest  excellences  were  beyond 
my  comprehension,  a  soft,  subdued  contralto,  inaudible  at  times  when 
the  sopranos  were  soaring  heavenward,  the  tenors  trumpeting,  and  the 
basses  roaring,  but  in  unstressed  intervals  sounding  sweetly  on  its  me 
lodious  way.  I  do  not  wish  to  mix  figures,  or  to  forget  that  the  alto  is 
a  feminine  voice,  but  I  will  risk  saying  that  in  the  mighty  chorus  of 
English  song  Goldsmith  is  to  me  like  this  sweet  unaspiring  voice,  singing 
its  almost  unvarying  song,  its  simple  melody,  and  I  do  not  hear  a  sweeter 
one. 

With  renewed  apologies  for  these  unwonted  and  inexpert  figures  of 
speech,  I  reaffirm  in  plain  words  my  love  of  Goldsmith's  poetry,  my  joy 
in  the  Vicar,  and  my  cordial  affection  for  the  author. 


PURITAN  RACES  AND  PURITAN  LIVING.* 

In  this  time  of  unlimited  and  apparently  illimitable  reformation, 
when  the  old  maxim  is  reversed  by  many  wise  men  and  wise  women, 
who  say  that  whatever  is  is  wrong,  it  is  an  invidious  undertaking  to  dis 
cuss  something  which  has  not  only  the  fault  of  existing  now,  in  modified 
form,  but  which  is  burdened  with  the  additional,  and  even  graver  infirm 
ity  of  having  existed  heretofore. 

The  word  Puritan  is  applied  in  English  and  American  history  to 
the  religious  society  that  became  prominent  and  powerful  at  the  period 
of  the  great  revolution  of  the  seventeenth  century  in  England  and  fur 
nished  the  first  settlers  of  the  New  England  States.  The  name  is  now 
confined  to  the  Calvinists;  but  the  first  English  Puritans  were  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  wished  to  remain  in  it. 

I  give  to  the  word,  for  my  purpose  this  evening,  a  much  wider  appli 
cation.  The  peculiarity  from  which  the  name  arose,  was  a  literal  inter 
pretation  and  acceptance  of  the  teachings  of  the  Bible,  especially  of  the 
Old  Testament,  and  a  rigid  conformity  of  life  to  them. 

It  is  my  intention  to  consider  briefly  certain  facts  in  the  histories  of 
the  more  important  associations  of  men  that  have  thus  accepted  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures,  and  to  point  out  some  of  the  results  accomplished 
by  them.  I  shall  consider  the  Puritan  polity  as  a  scheme  of  living  in 
the  world,  directing  attention  especially  to  practical  results.  I  shall 
invite  your  attention  to  the  Jews,  the  Dutch  Puritans,  the  English  Puri 
tans,  the  Huguenots,  and  the  Scotch  Covenanters.  My  purpose  is, 
chiefly,  to  inquire  what  Puritanism  has  done  for  the  world,  and  not 
whether  the  Puritan  Theology  is  sound  or  unsound.  In  showing  what 
Puritans  have  done,  I  do  not  mean  to  deny  that  others  have  likewise 
done  much  good. 

I  call  the  Jews  the  first  Puritans,  because  the  Mosaic  law  was  made 
primarily  for  them.  It  was  to  be  observed  literally  by  them  and  was  so 
observed  by  them,  in  the  most  excellent  periods  of  their  history. 
The  story  of  the  Jews  is  the  most  wonderful  thing  recorded  of  the 
human  race.  It  is  reasonably  certain  that  the  Decalogue  was  the  law 
of  the  Jews  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago.  Even  German  criti 
cism  concedes  it  to  be  twenty-five  hundred  years  old;  and  today  it  is 

*  Delivered  at  Forefathers-Day  Service,  Pilgrim  Church,  Knoxville,  Tennessee,  December  21, 
1897.  (117) 


Il8  PURITAN   RACES  AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

taught  to  our  children,  as  the  essence  of  the  ethics  of  this  modern  and 
most  enlightened  time.  Modern  civilization  rests  on  the  Decalogue. 
The  Exodus  of  the  Jews  was  perhaps  the  most  important  event  in  human 
history  before  the  coming  of  Christ.  Their  leader,  Moses,  was  one  of 
the  greatest  and  wisest  of  men.  At  that  time  the  great  power  in  the 
world,  the  most  cultured  and  refined  nation,  was  Egypt.  But 
the  Jews  did  not  get  their  law  from  Egypt.  At  the  highest  point 
in  Egyptian  history,  religion  was  degraded  by  the  most  absurd  and  cruel 
superstitions.  Great  gods  resided  in  gross  animal  forms.  Crocodiles, 
cats,  all  manner  of  vermin  were  sacred.  Religion  was  a  conglomerate 
of  horrors  and  absurdities,  and  yet  not  without  lofty  spiritual  suggestions. 
The  Egyptian  polity,  with  its  rigid  and  crucial  laws  of  caste,  its  degrada 
tion  of  the  great  mass  of  men  and  women,  its  heartless  brutalizing  sys 
tem  of  slavery,  accomplished  some  splendid  material  things;  but  for 
the  people  at  large,  a  worse  scheme  could  not  have  been  conceived. 
It  was  at  the  end  of  centuries  of  bondage,  in  that  country,  that  the 
Jews  received  from  Moses,  a  man  born  in  Egypt,  and  possessed  of  all 
its  learning,  a  system  of  law  as  different  from  the  Egyptian,  as  light 
is  from  darkness,  as  witness  the  larger  outline  of  the  system. 
A  conspicuous  fault  of  the  Egyptian,  as  of  all  ancient  societies  of 
men,  was  the  subordination  and  debasement  of  the  common  people. 
The  Mosaic  system  was  an  agricultural  democracy,  whose  earthly  rulers 
were  the  Judges  and  Elders,  and  whose  head  was  Jehovah.  The  laws 
of  Moses  affected  all  Jews  alike.  There  was  no  King.  There  was 
no  nobility,  no  privileged  class,  save  the  priesthood;  and  to  the  priests, 
as  to  the  people,  the  law  applied  in  all  its  force.  Thus  for  the  first  time 
in  the  world's  history  was  the  dignity  and  the  right  of  the  individual 
declared  and  maintained  by  law.  The  first  Democracy  was  proclaimed 
by  Moses,  the  Jew. 

The  great  overshadowing,  pervasive  and  destroying  crime  of  ancient  times 
was  lubricity,  a  crime  that  more  than  all  other  influences  eventually 
corrupted,  degraded,  subverted  empires  and  civilizations.  Against 
every  form  of  brutalism,  the  Mosaic  law  proclaimed  the  severest  penal 
ties.  In  this  respect,  Jewish  civilization  stands  above  all  others  of  ancient 
times,  as  high  as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth.  Other  nations  wor 
shiped  many  gods,  the  sun,  the  stars,  the  moon,  the  generative  power 
of  nature,  the  beasts  of  the  field.  The  Hebrew  worshiped  one  God, 
who  was  a  spirit,  the  embodiment  of  all  goodness,  all  wisdom,  all  power. 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  IIQ 

For  every  department,  every  aspect  of  life,  the  laws  of  Moses  wisely 
and  thoroughly  provided.  We  are  told  that  the  Jews  were  an  unruly, 
headstrong,  fickle  and  ungrateful  race.  So  they  were.  And  so  have 
been  all  other  races  of  men.  We  must  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that,  at  first, 
the  Jews  were  not  a  highly  civilized  people.  The  times  of  their  early 
history  were  rude  and  barbarous.  We  who  believe  in  an  over-ruling 
and  beneficent  Providence  do  not  assert  that  God  seized  upon  these 
people  and  miraculously  enlightened  them  by  a  leading-string,  guiding 
them  in  every  act  of  their  lives,  and  vainly  endeavored  to  perfect  them 
instantly.  We  believe  that  in  His  plan  for  the  uplifting  of  the  race, 
He  committed  to  them  the  essential  truths  of  religion,  as  depositaries 
for  the  benefit  of  all  men.  But  when  this  was  done,  they  were  not  in 
stantly  lifted  above  other  people.  They  were  not  to  be  miraculously 
perfected.  They  were  to  rise,  by  slow  degrees,  as  other  men.  Never 
theless  it  is  true  that  the  Jews  not  only  had  the  true  religion,  but  were 
within  a  few  generations  after  the  Exodus  the  most  enlightened,  moral 
and  righteous  people  of  ancient  times. 

Much  can  be  justly  said  against  them,  judged  by  the  standards  of  our 
own  time;  but  if  we  contrast  them  with  the  peoples  about  them  their 
history  is  a  line  of  dazzling  light,  shining  through  many  ages  in  the  midst 
of  black,  awful,  unrelieved  darkness.  For  instance,  every  reader  of 
the  Old  Testament  will  know  that,  in  a  sense,  there  was  a  rivalry 
between  Baal  the  false,  and  Jehovah  the  true  God.  This  Baal  was 
the  god  of  Babylon,  of  Phenicia,  of  Carthage,  of  Philistia,  and,  under 
other  names,  of  probably  all  races  who  were  neighbors  of  the  Jews. 
Baal  was  the  masculine  element  in  the  generative  power  of  Nature, 
and  Ashtaroth — or  Astarte,  the  female.  The  twain  were  worshipped 
together,  and  this  religion,  from  one  point  of  view,  was  a  brutalism  so 
gross,  so  utterly  disgusting,  so  abominable,  that  in  contemplating  it, 
the  imagination  is  aghast  and  horrified,  and  decency  paralyzes  the  tongue 
that  would  describe  it. 

The  enemy  of  the  Bible  condemns  the  laws  of  Moses  and  denounces 
the  Jewish  civilization  as  narrow,  harsh,  and  cruel.  Let  him  study  to 
know  the  facts.  If  he  turn  to  Babylon,  with  all  her  splendors,  he  will 
find  the  honor  of  women  the  most  grateful  offering  to  Baal  and  Astarte. 
In  Philistia,  in  Moab,  in  Edom,  the  same  abomination  existed.  In 
great  Tyre  and  Sidon,  twin  leaders  of  Phenician  civilization,  were  tem 
ples  dedicated  to  this  infamous  Astarte.  I  wish  that  all  critics  of 


120  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

the  Hebrews  might  read  in  Flaubert's  awful  novel,  Salammbo,  the 
story  of  the  sacrifice  of  babes  to  Baal-Moloch.  I  shall  never  rid  my 
mind  of  its  horrors.  I  see  the  great  brazen  image  of  Moloch  tower 
ing  above  an  innumerable  company  of  worshipers.  In  its  bosom 
glows  a  furnace  more  than  seven  times  heated.  The  priests  surround 
the  god,  shouting,  leaping,  screaming,  lashing  their  bodies  with  cruel 
whips,  or  brandishing  knives,  that  reek  with  their  own  blood.  In  the 
bosom  of  Moloch,  the  fire  burns  even  hotter  and  hotter;  the  shouts 
of  the  devotees  grow  louder  and  louder;  they  bleed  until  the  sacred  place 
is  a  shamble,  while  sickening  perfumes  poison  the  air,  which  is  electric 
with  excitement  and  terror.  The  scene  surpasses  any  that  Dante  imag 
ined.  Many  worshipers  fall  from  sheer  exhaustion,  they  lie  scattered 
or  heaped  before  the  glowing  Moloch.  Others  come  bearing  burdens 
in  their  hands.  These  burdens  are  children,  their  mouths  bandaged 
so  that  they  may  not  cry  aloud  when  the  god  shall  take  them  to  his  bosom! 
They  are  cast  down  before  Moloch,  scores — it  may  be  hundreds — of  in 
nocent  babes,  bound  with  cords  and  stifled.  The  mighty  arms  of 
the  god  are  made  to  rise  and  fall  by  an  ingenious  mechanism. 
The  work  of  propitiation,  of  sacrifice,  begins.  Behold  the  love  of 
this  great  Moloch  for  little  children!  The  chains  clank,  the  brazen 
arms  reach  down,  the  great  hands  are  empty,  but  as  they  rise,  they 
are  filled  with  little  children.  Higher  and  higher  they  rise,  till  at 
last  the  living  load  is  cast  into  the  consuming  fire  that  burns  in  Moloch's 
breast.  The  trumpets  clang,  the  great  drums  roar,  every  instrument 
of  music  sounds  loud,  the  priests  shout,  the  multitude  screams  frantically 
to  drown  all  other  noises,  for  not  always  can  the  god  prevent  the  sounds 
that  seem  like  screams  of  agony,  even  though  they  come  from  the  bosom 
of  Moloch;  and  not  every  mother  gives  her  child  to  Moloch  without  a 
pang.  The  hands  of  the  god  move  swiftly,  the  clanking  of  the  chains 
is  incessant,  and  the  frenzy  of  the  crowd  waxes,  as  the  terror  of  the  awful 
scene  pervades  it  more  and  more,  until  one  inconceivable,  universal, 
overwhelming  madness  and  delirium  possesses  it,  and  the  scene  becomes 
one  that  would  shame  and  revolt  the  nethermost  hell  itself!  And  so  this 
frightful  thing,  this  maddened  rout,  rages  and  raves,  and  ever  the  hands 
of  the  god  are  filled,  until  at  last  the  heart  of  Moloch  is  gorged,  the  fires 
overfed  and  stifled;  and  then  is  great  Moloch  appeased,  literally  glutted 
with  the  victims  whose  scorched  but  unconsumed  carcasses  fester  in  this 
horrid  embrace! 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  121 

Such  was  the  worship  of  Baal  in  its  most  cruel  form,  but  not  the  most 
degraded!  And  Baal  was  the  mighty  god  of  nearly  every  people  with 
whom  the  Jews  came  in  contact  before  the  conquest  of  Cyrus.  You 
may  say  that,  though  the  religion  of  the  Jews  was  free  from  the  abom 
inable  obscenities  and  horrid  butcheries,  it  remains  true  that  the  laws 
of  Moses  were  cruel.  I  affirm  that  the  Jews  were  the  most  humane  peo 
ple,  and  their  laws  the  most  humane  laws  of  ancient  times;  and  they 
may  be  justly  judged  only  by  the  standards  of  their  own  time.  Say 
what  you  will  of  the  Jew,  in  that  ancient  time,  he  was  an  angel  of  light, 
when  compared  with  the  men  who  lived  about  him,  and  his  superiority 
he  owed  to  the  law  which  was  a  part  of  his  life. 

The  immeasurable  superiority  of  the  Jewish  law  and  religion  is  shown 
in  results.  We  have  in  the  book  of  Judges  the  history  of  a  period  of 
more  than  four  hundred  years.  The  superficial  reader  will  think  that 
this  period  was  one  of  incessant  strife  and  bloodshed.  But  in  fact,  the 
disturbances  cover  less  than  a  hundred  years;  so  that  from  the  Conquest 
to  the  Monarchy,  were  three  centuries  of  peace  and  prosperity,  of  intel 
lectual  and  moral  growth.  The  real  history  of  these  years  was  not  in 
the  Homeric  narrative  of  Judges,  but  in  that  beautiful  pastoral,  the 
book  of  Ruth.  And  never,  I  believe,  was  the  ideal  of  human  society 
more  nearly  approached  than  during  those  tranquil,  halcyon  years, 
when  the  God  of  Israel  was  the  Ruler  of  an  obedient  people.  There 
is  no  more  charming  picture  of  peaceful,  simple  and  happy  life  in  all 
literature  than  the  book  of  Ruth.  In  this  era  the  Jews  were  Puritans 
indeed. 

The  stormy  period  of  transition,  from  the  Theocracy  to  the  Mon 
archy,  ended  with  the  establishment  of  the  throne  of  David.  This  was 
the  crowning  period  of  Jewish  history,  a  thousand  years  and  more  be 
fore  Christ.  Greek  civilization  was  not  yet  born.  Legend  even  does 
not  place  the  Trojan  war  so  far  in  the  past.  Five  centuries  were  to 
elapse  before  Greece  could  procure  an  ^"schylus,  but,  mark  the  height 
to  which  the  Jews  had  risen!  Who  has  attained  a  higher  spiritual  devel 
opment  than  David  the  Jew?  He  had  grave  faults,  and  suffered  for 
them;  but  intellectually  and  morally,  he  stands  among  men  unsurpassed. 
He  was  a  scholar,  a  soldier,  a  poet,  a  philosopher,  a  statesman  and  a 
prophet.  He  organized,  from  discordant  elements,  a  compact  kingdom, 
and  led  its  army  to  many  conquests.  He  restored  the  purity  and  re-es 
tablished  the  strictness  of  the  true  religion.  He  was  a  Puritan  of  the 


122  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

Puritans.  He  was  a  poet,  and  his  songs  have  been  sung  for  thirty  cen 
turies.  They  are  the  fittest  vehicle  of  the  highest  and  noblest  aspira 
tions  of  the  human  heart.  For  beauty  and  grandeur,  they  have  never 
been  surpassed.  The  human  mind  can  show  no  nobler  products. 
This  was  the  flowering-time  of  a  splendid  civilization.  David  was 
not  the  only  poet.  The  Psalms  are  not  all  his.  There  were  other  poets, 
scarcely  less  gifted  than  he.  There  was  a  noble  national  literature, 
much  of  which  has  perished,  though  much  remains.  There  were  poets, 
prophets,  seers,  historians.  I  dare  say  there  was  as  much  intellectual 
and  literary  activity  in  Jerusalem,  in  the  time  of  David  and  Solomon, 
as  there  was  in  Athens  in  the  age  of  Pericles;  and  this  was  five  hundred 
years  before  Pericles.  This  was  a  result  of  Puritanism,  of  Bible  living. 
Disobedience  and  decay  followed  the  death  of  David.  Centuries 
later,  after  the  captivity,  there  was  a  new  era  of  prosperity.  The  high 
spiritual  quality  of  the  national  mind,  begotten  by  right  living  under 
right  laws,  was  not  extinguished,  and  hence  it  was  that,  in  the  time  of 
Christ,  there  were  men  like  John  and  Luke  and  Paul,  with  the  spiritual 
strength  and  insight  to  grasp  the  full  meaning  of  the  sublimest  of  all 
religious  teachers.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  condition  of  the  race  as  a 
whole,  at  that  time,  it  produced  the  religious  leaders  who  revolutionized  the 
world;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  these  men  were  the  legitimate  products 
of  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  life  of  the  race  in  preceding  centuries.  The 
religion  of  the  Jews  has  remained  always  a  part  of  the  life  of  the  peo 
ple  and  of  each  individual.  Among  no  other  people  has  religion  so 
saturated  and  shaped  character.  Eighteen  centuries  have  passed  away 
since  the  nation  was  destroyed,  and  yet  the  race  survives,  strong  in  num 
bers,  in  wealth  and  intelligence.  Never  has  it  been  so  powerful  as  it 
is  today.  Never  was  it  more  intelligent.  Never  was  the  race-char 
acter  more  clearly  defined.  Never  were  the  Jews  more  distinctly  sepa 
rate  from  other  men,  than  they  are  today. 

Departed  though  they  are  from  their  ancient  standards,  in  many 
ways  they  reap  still  the  legitimate  fruit  of  a  persistent  adherence  to  the 
letter  of  the  law  of  Moses.  If  there  are  many  who  despise  them,  if 
heartless  persecutions  of  centuries  have  warped  and  degraded  them, 
it  is  not  the  fault  of  their  system.  Rather  it  is  by  virtue  of  it,  that  they 
are  still  unmixed,  a  powerful  race  despite  sufferings,  wrongs  and  perse 
cutions,  such  as  have  never  been  visited  upon  any  other  race  of  men. 
However  little  we  may  see  of  cause  and  effect  in  the  things  I  have 


PURITAN   RACES  AND   PURITAN   LIVING  123 

recounted,  it  is  certain  that  the  first  real  civilization,  the  first  in  which 
moral  and  spiritual  elements  were  dominant,  was  that  of  the  Jews;  and 
that  no  race  has  survived  so  long,  nor  outlived  so  many  misfortunes,  as  this 
first  Puritan  race.  Abraham  came  out  of  Chaldea,  but  for  four  thousand 
years  there  has  been  no  Chaldea.  The  Jew  saw  the  pyramids  built  in  Egypt; 
and  the  Jew  and  the  pyramids  still  survive,  while  Egypt  is  only  a  name. 
The  Jew  was  the  captive  of  Assyria;  but  the  Jew  lives,  while  Nineveh  was 
obliterated  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago.  The  Jew  was  a  slave  in 
Babylon;  and  today  a  Jewish  antiquarian  may  delve  into  the  rubbish 
heaps,  that  for  twenty  centuries  have  covered  the  site  of  Babylon.  The 
Greeks  subdued  the  Jews;  but  there  are  millions  of  descendants  of  Abra 
ham,  and  probably  not  one  Greek  of  the  pure  blood.  And  there  is  a 
single  Jew  who  is  a  mightier  power  than  all  the  hybrid  race  who  bear 
the  name  of  Greek.  The  Roman  laid  his  iron  hand  on  the  Holy  City, 
and  destroyed  the  temple;  but  the  Jews  are  mighty  upon  the  earth,  and 
there  is  not  one  Roman  left.  Every  Christian  nation,  except  our  own, 
has  persecuted  the  Jews;  but  now  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe  tremble 
at  the  frown  of  the  Jewish  bankers.  While  the  Jew  lived  according 
to  the  law,  he  surpassed  all  other  men,  and  centuries  of  bad  living  have 
not  overcome  the  results  of  this  good  living.  Puritanism  still  bears 
fruit.  The  point  I  seek  to  illustrate  is  not  so  much  the  inherent  and  indis 
putable  superiority  of  the  Jewish  code  over  all  others  of  ancient  times, 
as  that  this  superiority  was  demonstrated  in  practical  results.  Whether 
it  was  divinely  given  or  not,  it  proved  to  be  the  best  of  all  laws  of  ancient 
times  to  live  by.  Above  everything  stands  the  fact  that  from  this  first 
Puritan  race  we  derive  the  religion  that  has  revolutionized  and  con 
quered  the  earth,  and  built  up  a  civilization,  beside  which  all  others  are 
insignificant,  and  which  promises  the  fulfilment  of  the  best  and  highest 
aspirations  of  mankind.  The  Christian  says  the  Jews  were  the  trustees 
from  the  beginning  of  the  one  true  religion.  All  men  must  admit  that 
from  them  has  come  the  ethical  element  of  our  modern  civilization,  the 
excellence,  the  glory  of  that  civilization.  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  Jews,  if 
they  had  been  Christians,  would  have  led  the  world  from  the  Christian 
era.  Their  civilization  is  two  thousand  years  older  than  ours,  and  all 
the  misfortunes  of  the  race  in  Christian  times  have  resulted  from  their  re 
jection  of  the  Truth,  first  revealed  to  them — rejected  by  most  of  them — 
but  imparted  to  other  nations  by  a  few  of  them. 

Passing  over  many  centuries,  let  us  consider  the  Puritans  of  modern 


124  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

times.  A  saying  of  John  Fiske's  concerning  the  New  England  Puritans 
applies  to  all  modern  Puritans:  "The  impulse  by  which  they  were  ani 
mated  was  a  profoundly  ethical  impulse — the  desire  to  lead  Godly  lives 
and  to  drive  out  sin  from  the  community — the  same  impulse  which  ani 
mates  the  glowing  pages  of  Hebrew  poets  and  prophets,  and  which  has 
given  to  the  history  and  literature  of  Israel  their  commanding  influence  in  the 
world."  It  should  be  understood, without  saying,  that  there  have  been  mul 
titudes  of  Puritans  who  have  not  borne  that  name.  The  great  Augus 
tine,  whose  intellect  dominated  Christian  theology  for  many  centuries, 
was  a  Puritan.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  whose  purity  of  life,  sublime 
piety,  matchless  courage  and  invincible  force  made  him  one  of  the  grand 
est  leaders  of  men,  was  everything  that  the  word  implies.  And  so  was 
John  Henry  Newman,  the  Roman  Cardinal,  who  proved  that  even  in 
this  age  men  may  rise  to  the  ideal  of  Christian  character  and  living. 
But  my  attention  must  be  confined  to  the  compacted  bodies  of  men  who 
are  known  as  Puritans.  In  no  other  way  can  I  so  clearly  connect  causes 
and  effects. 

There  is  no  country  of  modern  times  whose  history  contains  more 
to  justify  pride  than  Holland.  This  little  people  led  the  way  to  the 
enlightenment  of  modern  Europe.  The  Dutch  were  the  first  real  bankers 
in  Europe;  the  first  to  understand  the  principles  of  political  economy; 
the  first  to  systematize  trade;  the  first  to  establish  a  satisfactory  system 
of  exchange;  the  first  to  realize  that  in  commerce  the  thing  most  essential 
is  honesty;  the  first  to  develop  agriculture,  and  among  the  first  to  attain 
excellence  in  art.  They  were  the  leaders  of  modern  democracy.  They 
made  the  first  written  constitution  to  bind  men  together  in  free  com 
munity.  They  made  the  grandest  fight  for  liberty  that  is  recorded  in 
human  history.  The  struggle  between  the  Netherlands  and  Spain  is, 
I  believe,  the  most  tragic,  the  most  cruel  and  relentless  on  the  one  hand, 
the  most  heroic  and  admirable  on  the  other,  that  ever  occurred. 
And  this  was  a  struggle  of  a  handful  of  Puritans  against  the  domi 
nant  world-power.  The  Dutch  revival  was  a  Puritan  revival.  The 
Dutch  civilization  was  a  Puritan  civilization.  And  if  we  turn  from 
these  great  and  heroic  things,  to  commonplace  affairs,  we  shall  find  our 
selves  in  these  also  deeply  indebted  to  the  Dutchmen.  We  read  in  his 
tory  and  in  romance  of  the  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold,  of  the  tourney  at 
Ashby,  of  gorgeous  coronations,  splendid  pageants— and  we  think  of 
the  Middle  Ages  as  a  time  of  gallant  knights  who  glittered  in  armor, 


PURITAN   RACES   AND    PURITAN   LIVING  125 

of  stately  dames  who  rustled  in  velvets  and  brocades,  of  queens  and 
kings  in  dazzling  jewels  and  gorgeous  robes.  We  fail  to  realize  that 
behind  all  this  barbaric  show  and  glitter  there  is  a  sordid  and  squalid 
background — a  seamy-side  to  the  cloth  of  gold.  Cleanness  was  not  in 
the  calendar  of  mediaeval  virtues.  The  frightful  plagues  that  swept 
away  from  Europe,  with  equal  hands,  the  clouted  peasant,  the  belted 
knight,  and  the  crowned  monarch,  were  the  natural  and  inevitable  con 
sequences  of  unclean  living.  It  was  filth  and  not  the  "Wandering  Jew"  that 
brought  the  plague.  The  Dutch  Puritans  were  the  first  people  in  Europe  to 
be  clean,  and  the  first  to  be  comfortable.  The  traveller  from  England  or 
France  to  Holland,  three  centuries  ago,  was  impressed  with  nothing  so  much 
as  the  cleanness  and  the  comfort  of  the  towns,  the  houses  and  the  people. 
A  street  in  London  or  Paris  was  a  sewer  as  well  as  a  thoroughfare.  In 
Antwerp  it  was  a  clean  and  stately  avenue.  The  dining  rooms  of  the 
grand  castles  in  France  and  England  were  strewn  with  rushes,  into  which 
were  cast  the  bones  and  meats  from  the  table,  there  to  remain  until  the 
dogs  found  them,  or  necessity  compelled  their  removal.  The  Dutch 
woman's  floor  was  scrubbed  and  immaculate.  Her  utensils  dazzled  the 
eye.  The  Dutchman's  house  was  glazed.  The  Frenchman's  window, 
like  the  Englishman's  window,  was  a  hole  in  the  wall.  And  from  Hol 
land  went  out  a  gradually  widening  wave  of  cleanness  and  comfort,  at 
the  same  time  that  the  Dutch  were  teaching  Europe  the  principles  of 
finance  and  trade,  establishing  common  schools  and  universities,  pro 
claiming  the  principles  of  international  law,  leading  the  way  to  liberty 
of  thought,  of  speech,  of  religion,  and  proving  by  the  example  of  their 
matchless  courage  and  fortitude,  that  common  traders  and  artisans 
could  not  only  be  patriotic  and  unselfish,  but  as  brave  and  chivalrous 
as  any  paladin  that  ever  rode  to  battle. 

I  admit  the  excellency  of  the  institution  of  chivalry.  I  am  fasci 
nated  by  mediaeval  history  and  romance.  Froissart  filled  my  young 
imagination  with  pictures  of  marvelous  splendor,  and  gave  to  my  days 
and  nights  surpassing  pleasure.  I  love  all  the  heroes  of  chivalry — real 
or  unreal — Roland,  Arthur,  Bayard,  Richard  of  the  lion-heart,  Ivan- 
hoe.  But  truth  compels  me  to  say  that  all  the  deeds  of  all  the  knights 
are  as  dust  in  the  balance,  when  weighed  against  the  achievements  of 
these  brave  Dutch  traders,  tanners,  and  blacksmiths.  While  the 
Dutch  Puritans  were  so  bravely  fighting  for  their  principles,  their 
fellow  religionists  in  England  were  growing  steadily  in  numbers 


126  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

and  in  power.  The  day  was  drawing  on  when  the  singers  of  Psalms 
would  deal  to  royalty  a  blow  from  which  it  would  never  recover.  We 
know  these  English  Puritans  best,  and  they  are  the  best  abused  of  all. 
They  lived  in  this  world  only  as  preparing  for  a  better.  Life  was  a  respon 
sibility  not  to  be  lightly  treated.  They  believed  in  the  direct  and  con 
stant  supervision  of  affairs  by  the  Creator.  They  were  confident  of  the 
efficacy  of  prayer,  and  bowed  frequently  and  long  at  the  throne  of  grace. 
Accepting  literally  all  that  the  Bible  said,  they  mortified  the  flesh,  and 
sought  opportunity  to  show  contempt  for  worldliness.  They  regarded 
themselves  as  the  chosen  people  of  God,  no  less  than  the  Israelites.  By 
fasting,  prayer  and  meditation  on  the  future  state,  they  wrought  them 
selves  to  a  high  pitch  of  nervous  excitement  and  saw  visions,  denounced 
judgment  and  punishment,  and  uttered  prophecies.  Display  in  dress 
was  an  abomination,  and  they  clad  themselves  in  garments  of  somber 
color  and  sober  cut.  Their  music  was  the  Psalms  of  David,  stretched, 
not  unfrequently,  on  racks  of  doleful  melody  or  awful  discord.  Having 
the  vision  of  eternity  ever  before  them,  they  made  their  faces  long  and 
sober,  and  often  sour.  They  affected  Scripture  names  along  with  others 
of  pious  suggestion,  that  the  most  friendly  must  call  absurd.  By  reason 
of  his  unique  name,  "Praise-God-Barebone,"  and  his  brother,  "If-Christ- 
had-not-died-for-you-you-had-been-Damned-Barebone,"  have  fame  al 
most  as  wide  as  Oliver  Cromwell.  The  lives  of  these  Puritans,  to  us 
of  these  soft  times,  were  hard,  their  morals  severe,  their  manners,  save 
to  the  initiate,  extremely  repellent.  For  all  these  things  the  gay  and 
gallant  cavaliers  ridiculed  them  till  a  certain  time. 

This  is  the  Puritan  considered  superficially.  But  beneath  all  this 
oddity,  exaggeration,  cant,  absurdity  if  you  will,  there  was  the  substance 
of  grand  and  noble  character.  There  were  hypocrites  and  demagogues, 
of  course,  but  with  few  exceptions  they  were  what  they  claimed  to  be — 
men  who  feared  God,  and  Him  only.  A  more  upright,  honest,  God 
fearing  race  of  men  never  lived  on  the  earth.  If  they  were  indifferent 
or  opposed  to  the  pleasures  of  life,  as  we  esteem  them,  they  were  faith 
ful  to  every  duty.  They  were  as  fearless,  as  faithful,  as  sternly  virtuous, 
as  Samuel,  or  Nathan,  or  Elijah,  their  ideals.  It  is  only  just  to  say 
that  the  hardness,  the  roughness  of  their  natures,  have  been  grossly  exag 
gerated.  In  the  struggle  for  civil  and  religious  liberty,  against  prerogative 
and  tyranny,  they  were  all,  with  one  accord,  on  the  side  of  liberty.  Then 
it  was  that  the  plumed  and  swaggering  cavaliers  learned  the  equality 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  I2J 

of  the  Psalm-singers.  Before  the  wars  were  ended,  the  Puritans  had  organ 
ized  an  army,  which,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  was  the  best  that  ever  went  to 
battle.  When  the  sword  had  settled  the  dispute,  it  was  the  Puritan  alone 
that  had  the  courage  of  his  convictions,  and  dared  follow  his  logic  to 
its  conclusion.  If  ever  the  people  had  felt  that  they  were  greater  than 
the  king,  the  growth  of  prerogative  under  the  Tudors,  had  stifled  the 
sentiment.  The  king  was  the  captive  of  the  Puritans.  What  should 
be  done  with  him  ?  At  the  very  suggestion  of  punishing  him,  all  Europe 
stood  aghast.  But  the  Puritan  held  steadily  on  his  way,  and  the  world 
beheld  the  awful  spectacle  of  a  king  beheaded,  by  common  men,  under 
form  of  law.  In  that  age  it  was  the  Puritan  alone  who  would  have 
dared  to  shed  the  sacred  blood  of  royalty.  The  execution  of  Charles 
Stuart  by  the  Puritans  marks  an  era  in  which  men  began  to  be  free  in  very 
truth.  In  this  time,  overshadowing  and  dwarfing  all  other  men,  appeared 
one  Puritan  who  embodied  all  the  virtues  and  strength,  and  it  may  be, 
all  the  faults  of  his  kind.  Among  the  three  or  four  greatest  men  of  action 
of  modern  times  there  is  no  more  unique  or  impressive  figure  than  Oliver 
Cromwell.  If  the  course  of  events  made  him  a  monarch,  in  fact,  though 
not  in  name,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  powerful 
instrumentalities  in  the  hands  of  Providence  for  establishing  human 
freedom.  No  race  but  the  Puritans  could  have  produced  such  a  man, 
and  none  but  the  Puritans  would  have  upheld  him.  For  centuries 
obloquy  obscured  his  name,  but  at  last  the  world  is  admitting  the  truth 
that  this  Puritan  was  one  of  its  greatest  statesmen  and  administrators, 
as  well  as  one  of  its  greatest  soldiers. 

The  English  Puritans  were,  as  a  rule,  from  the  middle  classes,  the 
most  conservative  and  the  best  educated — the  substance  of  the  nation. 
But  I  must  not  omit  to  say  that  in  all  England  there  was  not  at  this  time 
a  more  outspoken  friend  of  liberty  than  Richard  Hooker,  the  English 
churchman,  the  author  of  the  great  book  which,  after  the  King  James 
Bible  and  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  is  the  noblest  monument  of 
English  prose  in  that  generation. 

Another  Puritan  body  of  great  historical  importance  was  the  Hugue 
nots.  They  were  also  Covenanters,  as  their  name — "Oath-Brothers'* — 
implies.  Like  all  Calvinists  they  were  Democrats,  and  in  the  day  of 
their  strength,  made  in  France  the  beginnings  of  free  institutions,  mod 
elled  upon  those  of  Holland  and  Switzerland.  They,  too,  were  prin 
cipally  of  the  middle  class.  Before  their  persecution  by  Louis  XIV., 


128  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

they  numbered  two  million  souls.  They  had  seven  hundred  churches. 
Never  have  the  higher  qualities  of  human  nature  been  more  beauti 
fully  manifest  than  among  these  French  Puritans.  They  loved  liberty, 
loved  their  fellow  men,  and  loved  God.  They  excelled  in  learning  and 
in  all  useful  and  elegant  arts.  They  produced  such  men  as  Bayle, 
Scaliger,  the  unsurpassed  scholar,  the  great  Cuvier,  and  Ambrose  Pare, 
the  father  of  modern  surgery.  It  is  estimated  that  by  the  stupid 
bigotry  of  Louis  XIV.,  one  million  of  them  were  expelled  from  France. 
Of  one  thousand  Huguenot  preachers,  six  hundred  were  driven  into 
exile,  and  one  hundred  more  sent  to  the  galleys.  Louis  XIV.  did 
not  exterminate  the  Huguenots,  but  he  destroyed  more  than  half 
the  commercial  and  manufacturing  industries  of  his  kingdom,  thereby 
confirming  his  title  to  the  appellation  of  "le  Grand  Monarque!"  Wherever 
the  Huguenots  went  they  established  honesty,  industry,  education,  morality 
and  piety.  They  helped  the  cause  of  freedom  in  Holland,  and  gave  invaluable 
aid  to  the  industrial  growth  of  England.  Many  came  to  America,  and  in 
the  Revolution  such  Huguenots  as  Francis  Marion  proved  the  quality  of  the 
race.  In  an  article  entitled  "The  distribution  of  Ability  in  America,"  but 
apparently  intended  to  prove  that  it  is  not  distributed  at  all,  Senator 
Lodge  admits  that  in  proportion  to  numbers,  the  Huguenots  have  pro 
duced  more  men  of  ability  than  any  other  element  in  our  American 
population. 

Turning  now  to  the  Scotch  Puritan  movement,  we  find  it  essentially 
an  uprising  of  the  people.  It  is  typified  and  represented  by  its  great 
leader,  John  Knox.  He  was  a  man  of  the  people  and  fitted  to  be  a  leader 
of  the  people.  His  courage  knew  no  limits.  He  withstood  persecution 
with  unflinching  fortitude,  served  as  a  galley-slave  for  the  sake  of  his 
convictions,  and,  recovering  his  freedom,  resumed  his  work  with  una 
bated  zeal  and  energy.  The  fascinating  Queen  of  Scots  had  no  charms 
for  him,  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  denounce  her  sins  to  her  face.  As 
strong  in  his  convictions  as  it  is  possible  to  be,  he  approved,  in  his  zeal, 
things  that  we,  in  our  sober  judgment,  must  condemn.  But  the  Scotch 
Covenant  was  a  covenant  of  righteousness. 

Andrew  Melville,  who  succeeded  Knox  as  leader,  was  the  real  founder 
of  the  University  system  of  Scotland.  The  authors  and  scholars  who 
made  the  Scotch  name  illustrious  in  the  eighteenth  century  were  mainly 
Covenanters,  and  the  intellectual  movement  which  inspired  them  was 
of  Covenanter  origin.  In  Scotland,  as  in  England,  and  in  Holland,  the 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  I2Q 

cause  of  enlightenment  and  of  liberty  rested  for  a  time  mainly  on  the  Puri 
tans.  The  Scotch  intellect  owes  its  development  and  its  splendid  achieve 
ments  to  the  Covenanter  impulse. 

In  the  course  of  time,  a  great  colony  of  Covenanters  was  planted  in 
the  north  of  Ireland.  These  people  found  their  new  home  a  waste,  but 
in  a  few  years  made  it  one  of  the  most  productive  and  attractive  regions 
in  Europe.  And  to  this  day  Ulster  thrives  as  no  other  part  of  Ireland. 
The  political  and  religious  opinions  of  these  Scotch-Irishmen  and  their 
prosperity  aroused  persecution.  They  resisted  strenuously,  but  in  the 
end  many  sought  refuge  and  freedom  in  the  wilds  of  America,  whither 
presently  we  shall  follow  them. 

But  first  we  turn  to  another  Puritan  Exodus.  It  was  in  the  year 
1621,  that  the  first  English  Puritans  came  to  America.  In  a  few  years 
forty  thousand  had  come.  They  were  "a  picked  company."  They 
were  of  good  repute,  and  nearly  all  fairly  educated.  About  the  middle 
of  the  second  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  Scotch-Irish  began 
their  migration  to  America.  Landing  mainly  at  Philadelphia,  and  at 
Charleston,  they  sought  homes  on  the  frontier,  especially  of  the  South 
west,  and  led  the  way  to  the  conquest  and  civilization  of  all  that  region. 
According  to  our  distinguished  townsman,  Judge  Temple,  there  were 
not  less  than  six  hundred  thousand  Scotch-Irishmen  in  America  in  1776. 
Thus  the  Covenanters  and  the  Puritans  made  nearly  one-half  the  white 
population  of  the  colonies.  Add  to  these  the  people  of  Dutch  descent 
in  the  middle  colonies,  and  it  is  reasonably  certain  that  half  the  people 
were  of  Puritan  extraction. 

The  Puritans  were  Democrats.  They  believed  in  equality,  and  hated 
every  form  of  oppression.  Democracy  is  a  corollary  of  the  Puritan 
faith.  That  the  Scotch  Covenanters  were  the  most  pronounced  and 
persistent  in  their  democracy,  I  believe  to  be  true.  Buckle  says  of  Cal 
vinism:  "It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  the  doctrines,  which  in  England 
have  been  called  'Calvinistic,'  have  been  always  connected  with  a  demo 
cratic  spirit."  Fiske  refers  to  John  Calvin  as  the  spiritual  father  of 
William  of  Orange,  Coligny  and  Oliver  Cromwell. 

I  do  not  wish  to  claim  too  much  for  the  Puritans.  I  remember  Wash 
ington  and  a  multitude  more  of  patriots  who  were  not  Puritans.  I  wish 
to  show  that  the  principles  of  the  Puritans  led  them  to  espouse  quickly, 
and  to  uphold  steadfastly,  the  cause  of  liberty.  When  Independ 
ence  had  been  established,  these  two  races — the  English  and  Scotch 


130  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

Puritans — were  dominant  influences  in  their  respective  sections.  At 
the  present  time  there  are  fifteen  million  descendants  of  the  New 
England  Puritans  in  this  country;  and  I  believe  there  are  as  many 
descendants  of  the  Scotch-Irish.  That  is  to  say,  one-half  of  our 
people  have  in  their  veins  one  strain  or  the  other  of  the  Puritan  blood. 
Until  a  few  years  ago  their  enemies  said  that  the  Puritans  claimed  to 
have  done  everything  in  this  country.  This  accusation  was  not  wholly 
free  from  exaggeration.  But  it  did  not  require  a  wholly  censorious 
mind  to  discover  in  it  elements  of  verity.  When  Douglass  Campbell  wrote 
his  book,  he  claimed  practically  everything  good  for  the  Dutch;  and  not 
long  ago  there  was  a  revival  of  race  pride  among  the  Covenanters,  who 
began  to  speak  and  write  for  themselves  and  their  ancestors,  and  now 
it  is  said  that  they  claim  everything  good  in  America.  I  shall  not  assume 
the  responsibility  of  charging  either  race  with  an  excess  of  modesty. 
Consider  for  a  moment  what  the  Puritans  have  accomplished  in 
America.  The  great  lighthouses  of  education,  Harvard  and  Yale, 
were  begun  by  them,  and  in  the  dawn  of  our  history.  The  rich  libraries 
of  the  East  have  been  gathered,  and  popular  education  established  and 
constantly  advanced.  The  literature  of  America  belongs  to  New  Eng 
land.  If  we  omit  from  our  annals  the  names  of  Edwards,  Channing, 
Motley,  Bancroft,  Prescott,  Parkman,  Bryant,  Lowell,  Longfellow, 
Whittier,  Thoreau,  Emerson,  Hawthorne,  how  little  remains!  How 
ill  could  our  political  history  afford  to  lose  Samuel  and  John  Adams, 
Otis,  Webster,  Choate,  Sumner,  Wilson,  Hale,  Hamlin,  Pierce!  And 
how  many  names  of  the  history  of  the  Northwest  are  Puritan!  Immense 
tracts,  as  for  instance  the  Western  Reserve  of  Ohio,  were  peopled,  almost 
exclusively,  from  New  England.  For  a  long  time  the  East  has  con 
trolled  the  policy  of  the  country  by  the  aid  of  her  colonies  in  the 
West.  Wherever  the  American  free  school  system  may  have  originated, 
it  was  developed  and  improved  most  in  New  England.  The  average 
of  education  and  of  intelligence  has  always  been  higher  there  than  in  any 
other  part  of  our  country.  That  the  Covenanters,  if  settled  in  com 
pact  communities,  would  have  equalled  the  New  Englanders  in  this 
respect,  I  do  not  doubt,  for  stauncher  friends  of  education  never  lived; 
but  conditions  in  the  South  and  West  were  such  that  the  Scotch-Irish 
schools  could  only  be  established  in  widely  separated  communities. 
By  thus  training  the  mind,  as  it  trained  the  morals  of  its  people,  New 
England  became  not  only  the  most  intelligent,  but  also  the  most  influ- 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  13! 

ential  portion  of  our  country.  She  produced  the  greatest  of  our  writers, 
and  fifty  years  ago  had  grown  in  intellect  so  that  she  was  able  and  bold 
enough  to  make  a  declaration  of  intellectual  independence.  These 
were  direct  and  indisputable  evidences  of  the  good  results  of  Puritan 
living.  The  New  Englanders  are  not  entitled  to  credit  for  fomenting 
the  anti-slavery  movement  more  than  were  the  Covenanters;  but  the 
abolition  crusade  was  mainly  supported  by  them  and  by  their  colonies  in  the 
West.  In  the  face  of  these  facts  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  any  one  can  deny 
the  excellence  of  the  system  under  which  these  Puritans  lived.  They 
were  clean  livers,  physically  and  morally.  They  have  prospered  and 
they  have  multiplied  also.  The  old  strictness  of  living,  carried  to  excess, 
it  may  be,  caused  a  revolt  after  awhile  and  now  there  is  much  free  think 
ing.  But  I  affirm  that  what  the  New  England  people  have  done  at 
home  and  in  the  West  is  the  result  of  the  Old  New  England  living. 

When  I  read  the  exquisite  sentences  of  the  most  celebrated  atheist 
of  this  time,  and  hear  of  his  amiable  and  admirable  personal  traits,  I 
see  in  these  things  convincing  proofs  of  the  excellence  of  the  system  which, 
for  many  generations,  trained  the  minds  and  hearts  of  his  ancestors. 
The  blood  of  old  Jonathan  Edwards  runs  in  the  veins  of  Col.  Ingersoll; 
and  the  more  brilliant  the  great  rhetorician  is,  the  more  does  he  prove 
what  generations  of  Godly  living  may  do  for  the  human  intellect  and 
talents  and  character.  Col.  Ingersoll  attacks  the  Bible,  but  in  his  own 
charming  personality  and  fine  genius,  is  a  living  irrefutable  proof  that 
Bible-living  produces  great  men.  He  has  gone  far  from  the  faith  of 
his  fathers,  but  he  is  as  much  a  Puritan  product  as  Jonathan  Edwards. 
I  am  not  arguing  in  behalf  of  any  religious  opinions,  but  only  showing 
what  Puritan-living  can  accomplish. 

If  we  turn  to  the  Covenanters,  we  find  them  doing  in  the  South,  so 
far  as  conditions  have  permitted,  the  same  things  that  the  New  Eng 
landers  did  in  the  North.  In  Scotland  and  in  Ireland  they  had  been 
an  educated  people.  All  their  preachers  were  school  teachers.  In 
America  they  were  no  less  the  friends  of  education.  The  memorials 
of  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  preachers  are  found  in  almost  every  institu 
tion  of  learning  in  the  Southwest.  Princeton  was  their  first  great  work; 
and  as  they  came  South  and  West,  their  land-marks  were  the  log  colleges 
that  sent  to  Princeton  a  steady  stream  of  sturdy,  pious  men,  who  returned 
to  the  wilderness  to  civilize  it.  These  Presbyterians  founded  Wash 
ington  and  Lee  University,  Washington  College,  the  University  of  Ten- 


132  PURITAN   RACES  AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

nessee,  (or  its  germ,  Blount  College),  the  Southwestern  Presbyterian 
University,  Maryville  College,  Davidson  College,  Transylvania  Uni 
versity,  Greeneville  College,  Tusculum  College  and  a  multitude  more. 
Wherever  they  went  they  carried  knowledge  and  religion.  In  our  im 
mediate  neighborhood  they  furnished  such  teachers  as  Doak,  Carrick, 
Craighead,  and  Anderson.  In  the  catalogue  of  the  great  men  of  our 
nation,  are  the  Scotch-Irishmen,  Jefferson,  Jackson,  Polk,  Lincoln, 
Calhoun,  Sam  Houston,  Patrick  Henry,  Hugh  Lawson  White,  the 
Breckinridges,  McKinley,  Bryan,  the  Prestons,  and  the  great  inventors, 
Morse,  Fulton,  and  McCormick. 

The  Scotch-Irish  led  the  way  to  the  settlement  of  the  States  of  Ten 
nessee,  Kentucky,  Missouri,  Texas,  Arkansas,  and  much  of  Ohio,  Indi 
ana,  and  Illinois.  They  possessed  also  Western  Pennsylvania,  the  Val 
ley  of  Virginia,  and  Western  North  Carolina,  and  found  a  foot-hold  in 
every  Southern  and  Western  State.  Wherever  they  went  it  was  as  Pres 
byterians,  until,  early  in  this  century,  the  Baptists  and  Methodists  had 
made  heavy  inroads  upon  them.  At  the  present  time  probably  the 
majority  of  the  Scotch-Irish  are  not  of  the  old  communion.  But  whether 
they  be  Baptists,  Methodists,  or  Cumberland  Presbyterians,  the  race 
characteristics,  as  developed  in  the  old  Covenanters,  are  still  strong  and 
prominent,  and  the  Methodists  and  the  Baptists  are  just  as  much  Puri 
tan  Bible-lovers  as  the  Presbyterians. 

And  so  we  have  in  America  fifteen  millions  of  the  English  Puritan 
stock,  fifteen  millions  of  the  Covenanter  stock,  and  I  should  say,  at  least 
two  millions  of  the  Dutch  and  the  Huguenot  stock  together.  These 
races  have,  so  to  speak,  projected  solid  bodies  of  influence  into  affairs, 
and  have  thus  afforded  large  and  indisputable  proofs  that  it  pays,  mentally, 
morally,  socially  and  financially,  to  live  according  to  the  Puritan  plan. 
They  are  "healthy,  wealthy  and  wise."  What  they  are,  they  became 
by  right  living. 

You  cannot  deny  that  in  ancient  times  the  Jews  surpassed  all  nations 
in  spirituality;  that  the  ethical  inspiration  of  modern  civilization  came 
from  them,  and  that  the  ethical  impulse  transmitted  by  them  is  most 
conspicuously  and  positively  manifest  in  the  Puritans,  because  of  their 
coherence  and  compactness.  Emerson  says  that  "the  evolution  of  a 
highly  destined  society  must  be  moral."  I  do  not  dispute  the  truth  of 
this  saying,  but  I  would  go  farther  and  say  that  the  evolution  of  a  highly 
destined  society  must  be  religious!  This  is,  in  one  sense,  the  argument  of 


PURITAN   RACES  AND   PURITAN   LIVING  133 

Benjamin  Kidd  in  his  admirable  book  on  Social  Evolution.  He  says:  "The 
organic  growth,  it  would  appear,  must  be  the  social  system,  or  type  of 
civilization,  founded  on  a  form  of  religious  belief."  If  we  believe  that 
mankind  is  to  be  regenerated,  then  the  regeneration  must  be  by  religion, 
and  not  by  mere  intellectual  development.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
reject  the  doctrine  of  regeneration  in  favor  of  evolution,  then  I  say  the 
evolution  must  be  religious.  So  Kidd  says :  "The  evolution  which  is  slowly 
proceeding  in  human  society  is  not  primarily  intellectual,  but  religious  in 
character."  I  believe  this  to  be  true;  but  I  have  not  set  for  myself  the  large 
task  of  proving  it.  I  am  content  to  affirm,  upon  facts  of  history,  that  the 
highest  excellence  of  nations,  as  well  as  of  men,  is  religious  and  not  intel 
lectual;  that  the  hope  of  the  race  lies  in  religious  development;  that  the 
best  practical  results  have  been  accomplished  by  Christian  living  and 
Christian  doing;  and  that,  as  a  rule,  the  most  important  and  beneficent 
achievements  of  the  Christians  in  every  line  of  effort  have  been  made  by 
those  Christians  who  have  strictly  interpreted  and  observed  the  laws  of 
God  as  given  in  the  Bible.  If  the  Bible  be  false,  then  falsehood  has 
done  more  for  the  good  of  men  than  all  the  truth  in  the  universe,  and  I 
say — "All  hail  such  falsehood!"  I  do  not  care  to  argue  in  behalf  of  the 
Bible.  My  proposition  is  that  Bible-living  is  shown  by  the  experience 
of  mankind  to  be  the  best  living  for  this  present  world.  To  me  noth 
ing  is  more  wearisome  and  offensive  than  the  prevalent  cheap  criticism 
of  the  Old  Testament.  I  have  for  years  been  a  diligent  student  of 
it,  with  the  aid  of  the  best  modern  authorities;  and  day  by  day  my 
reverence  for  it  has  increased,  and  shame  has  grown  upon  me  that  I  so 
long  failed  to  realize  its  grandeur,  its  sublimity,  its  unspeakable  variety. 
We  are  told  that  it  is  a  cruel  book;  and  yet  I  dare  say  that  in  all  the 
remainder  of  the  world's  literature  there  are  not  so  many  actual  instances 
of  love  and  of  forgiveness.  It  is  denounced  as  narrow.  Yet  from  it 
legitimately  and  naturally  grows  Christianity,  whose  breadth  knows 
no  limit.  The  very  essence  of  Christianity  is  in  the  old  Hebrew  prophets; 
its  charity,  its  gentleness,  its  all-embracing  and  all-enduring  love.  If 
you  doubt  it,  turn  to  the  pages  of  the  noble  prophets  Hosea,  Amos,  Joel, 
and  Jeremiah.  It  is  false,  we  are  told,  because  it  relates  stupendous, 
impossible  miracles;  and  yet  no  man  of  moderate  intelligence  will  deny 
that  from  it  sprang  originally  every  influence  that  has  contributed  to  the 
ethical  superiority  of  western  civilization,  the  life  and  soul  of  that  civil 
ization. 


134  PURITAN   RACES  AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

What  made  the  Jew,  spiritually,  the  superior  of  all  other  men  of 
ancient  times?  Not  the  fact  that  he  was  of  the  Semitic  family,  for  that 
was  one  of  the  great  races  whose  branches  populated  all  Southwestern 
Asia!  Not  his  training  in  Egypt,  for  in  Egypt  he  was  a  slave!  Not 
Greek  culture  nor  Roman  law,  for  the  Jewish  character  was  developed 
before  one  stone  of  Athens  or  of  Rome  was  laid !  For  myself,  I  accept  unre 
servedly,  and  with  absolute  conviction,  the  explanation  that  the  Bible 
gives.  But  there  are  many  who  do  not  believe  this;  and  to  them,  I  say, 
explain  it  otherwise  if  you  can.  At  least  you  will  not  dispute  the  facts! 

Old  and  New  Testament  alike  are  all  from  the  Jews.  Christ  was 
not  born  of  a  tribe  of  Australian  savages,  but  just  where  the  human  rea 
son  would  say  He  should  have  been  born,  of  the  race  which  had  reached 
the  highest  spiritual  and  ethical  development.  I  believe,  also,  that  the 
Jews  were  then,  as  for  centuries  before,  intellectually  the  strongest, 
and  physically  the  purest  race  upon  the  earth.  Bible-living,  Puritan- 
living,  and  that  alone,  made  it  possible  for  the  Redeemer  to  be  born  of  that 
race.  The  Puritan,  like  the  Jew,  lived  according  to  the  Bible,  and  therein 
lies  the  secret  of  his  strength  and  success.  Paul  and  all  "the  glorious 
company  of  the  Apostles"  were  Puritans;  Jerome,  immured  in  his  cell 
at  Bethlehem;  Athanasius,  many  times  exiled  for  the  faith;  Chrysostom, 
denouncing  the  all-powerful  Empress  to  her  face,  and  dying  a  cruel  death 
in  the  wilderness — all  these  were  Puritans,  and  their  Puritanism,  aided 
by  the  Puritanism  of  that  "noble  army  of  martyrs"  who  were  thrown 
to  the  beasts  in  Roman  arenas,  and  burned  as  torches  in  Nero's  gardens, 
conquered  the  world. 

Let  no  one  say  that  I  claim  everything  for  the  Puritans.  I  only  wish 
to  show  what  they  have  done.  I  wish  to  show  the  good  results  of  Bible- 
living.  I  do  not  affirm  that  the  Puritans  have  done  all  the  good  in  modern 
times.  I  do  not  even  say  that  they  have  done  the  most  of  it.  I  only 
attempt  to  indicate  some  of  the  things  that  they  have  done;  I  would  not 
and  I  could  not  take  from  other  men  the  credit  for  the  good  things  that 
they  have  done. 

In  conclusion,  permit  me  to  say  frankly,  that  in  these  general  and 
somewhat  disconnected  statements  I  have  intended  to  signify  an  em 
phatic  disapproval,  not  only  of  the  tendency,  begotten  of  the  vast  intel 
lectual  conceit  of  the  times,  to  abandon  Christianity  and  worship  our 
selves,  but  also  of  the  excessively  liberal  and  emasculated  Christianity 
that  is  preached  from  many  pulpits.  Conscious  that  no  process  of  rea- 


PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING  135 

soning  would  be  efficacious,  I  have  sought  to  show  from  history,  the  bene 
fits  of  strict  Bible-living.  The  facts  are  indisputable,  however  we  may 
differ  as  to  the  causes. 

Born  of  Covenanter  stock,  with  strains  of  Dutch  and  Huguenot  blood 
in  my  veins,  I  honor  my  earnest-living,  God-fearing  ancestors;  but  the 
time  for  wrangling  over  question  of  doctrines  has  passed.  Every  truly 
Christian  Church  is  right  and  good.  If  you  ask  me,  whom,  of  all  men, 
I  think  the  most  unworthy,  I  answer:  The  man  who,  calling  himself  a 
Christian,  speaks  ill  of  another  Christian — because  of  differences  of  doc 
trines! 

Bigotry  has  done  no  good.  It  has  done  only  harm  in  the  world. 
But  Bible-living  has  made  modern  civilization;  and  I  appeal  to  history 
for  proof  of  the  assertion,  that  the  best  results  have  come  to  mankind 
from  strict  Bible-living!  Though  an  adherent  and  devoted  lover  of  a 
Church  from  which  many  of  the  Puritans  and  Covenanters  departed,  I 
should  hail  with  joy  any  evidence  of  a  tendency,  in  my  own  or  in  any 
other  Church,  to  the  faithful,  vigorous  intense  Bible-living  which  wrought 
the  characters  of  the  strong,  the  invincible  men  and  women,  who  in 
former  centuries,  have  led  the  march  of  liberty  and  of  civilization. 

As  a  final  word,  permit  me  to  say  that  the  popular  conception  of  the 
domestic  life  and  of  the  habits  of  the  Puritans  of  New  England,  Old 
England,  Scotland  and  Holland,  is  most  erroneous.  We  hear  much  of 
the  "Blue  Laws,"  and  many  do  not  know  that  they  are  mythical.  The 
notions  and  the  laws  of  the  Puritans  were  strict,  but  it  is  far  from  true 
that  their  lives  were  joyless.  I  doubt  not  that  they  enjoyed  life  as  much 
as  we  do.  I  have  in  mind  the  conventional  picture  of  a  Puritan  maiden, 
gowned  in  soberest  stuffs,  erect,  precise — even  formidable!  The  modern 
young  man  shudders  at  sight  of  her.  The  modern  young  woman  returns 
thanks  for  the  improvement  of  fashions.  But  the  picture  fails  in  justice 
to  the  Puritan  maid.  In  the  first  place,  a  handsome  woman  is  made 
handsomer  by  the  Puritan  garb,  and  it  is  only  ladies  whose  charms  need 
the  re-enforcement  of  modern  art,  who  need  to  fear  its  severe  simplicity. 
And  then — the  maid  herself!  We  do  not  see  the  health  that  suffuses 
her  cheek,  the  brightness  of  her  eye,  nor  the  smile  that  lurks  therein; 
we  cannot  see  the  purity  of  soul  that  speaks  in  every  lineament,  neither 
can  we  hear  the  soft  voice  that  can  whisper  accents  of  love,  Madam, 
no  less  fervently  than  your  own!  She  was  very  human,  this  Puritan 
maid — although  she  was  very  good.  She  went  to  church,  even  when 


136  PURITAN   RACES   AND   PURITAN   LIVING 

it  rained,  which  is  remarkable.  It  may  be  she  sung  psalms  only,  but 
she  sang  them  divinely.  She  did  not  dance  all  night,  but  the  roses  lin 
gered  the  longer  on  her  cheeks.  She  did  not  say  "Halloa"  to  young 
men  on  the  streets;  she  was  not  addicted  to  decollete  toilettes;  she  read 
the  Bible  and  did  not  read  "The  Quick  or  the  Dead;"  she  did  not  per 
mit  young  men  to  clutch  her  arm  and  thus  propel  her  through  the  streets 
of  Plymouth  or  Boston  Town;  she  would  not  have  enjoyed  the  ballet, 
but  would  have  shared  Thomas  Carlyle's  opinion  that  it  was  unbecom 
ing  for  human  beings  to  make  manx  pennies  for  themselves.  She  was 
not  without  faults;  but  chiefly  her  failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side.  She 
grew  up  in  health,  in  innocence,  in  purity,  in  godliness.  As  matron, 
she  reared  her  children  in  virtue,  and  in  piety. 

As  I  think  of  the  Puritan  Mother  of  Old  England,  of  New  England, 
of  Holland,  of  France,  of  Scotland,  there  comes  to  me  ever  the  vision 
of  what  she  has  done  for  the  world.  I  see  her,  by  the  hand  of  her  son, 
the  mighty  Cromwell,  break  down  the  prejudices  of  ages,  strike  off  a 
tyrant's  head  and  set  a  people  free;  I  see  William  of  Orange  fight  glori 
ously  for  liberty  and  then  die  for  it;  I  see  the  cruel  sacrifice  of  Coligny; 
I  see  her  love  of  learning  in  the  great  universities  of  Holland  and  of 
Scotland,  in  our  own  Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton,  Washington  and  Lee, 
and  in  the  free  schools  of  this  great  Republic;  I  see  her  industry  and 
thrift  making  the  greatness  of  France,  and  her  children  exiled  by  heart 
less  and  insensate  bigotry,  carrying  their  unsurpassed  skill  to  enrich  and 
to  enlighten  many  lands;  I  hear  her  proclaim  liberty  in  the  glowing 
words  of  Patrick  Henry,  of  Sam  Adams,  of  Thomas  Jefferson;  I  listen 
to  the  greatest  senatorial  debates  of  modern  times  between  her  sons 
Webster  and  Calhoun;  I  see  her  inventive  genius  manifest  in  the  mar 
velous  discoveries  of  Morse  and  Edison;  I  admire  the  subtlety  of  her 
intellect  in  the  metaphysics  of  Jonathan  Edwards;  I  am  stirred  to  the 
heart's  depths  by  the  noble  idealism  of  Emerson;  I  hear  her  sing,  in  the 
verse  of  Longfellow,  of  Lowell,  of  Bryant,  of  Whittier;  in  the  greatest 
war  of  modern  times  I  see  the  military  genius  of  her  sons,  Ulysses  Grant 
and  Stonewall  Jackson;  and  finally  I  hear  the  whole  earth  resound  with 
the  praises  of  her  martyred  and  immortal  son,  Abraham  Lincoln!  These 
are  some  of  the  jewels  in  the  crown  of  Puritan  womanhood!  Shall  the 
womanhood  of  these  days,  or  of  any  days  to  come,  wear  a  brighter  dia 
dem? 


CHANGING  CUSTOMS. 

NOXVILLE  is  an  old  city,  and  the  writer  is  not  one  of  its  younger 
inhabitants,  he  confesses,  nor  yet  one  of  the  oldest,  he  affirms. 
To  one  of  an  observant  turn,  the  development  of  the  city  and 
the   changes   of  manners    and   customs    during   the   last  forty 
years  have  been  full  of  interest. 

When  the  war  ended  there  were  perhaps  five  thousand  people  here, 
nearly  all  native,  and  nearly  all  related.  Most  of  them  were  of  the  good 
old  Scotch-Irish  stock,  religious,  moral,  and  of  unlimited  positiveness. 
The  Scotch-Irish  are  one  of  the  two  great  American  races;  champions 
of  religious  and  political  liberty,  and  rich  in  all  the  militant  virtues,  cour 
age,  strength,  tenacity,  aggressiveness.  If  these  "rougher  virtues,"  as 
Mr.  Roosevelt  calls  them,  pushed  aside  some  of  the  finer  ones,  the  com 
pensation  for  the  loss  was  ample,  and  the  finer  ones  are  coming  on,  as 
they  are  needed  and  have  opportunity.  Staunchest  of  partisans  were 
these  sturdy,  strong  opinioned  Covenanters,  with  convictions,  and,  some 
times,  prejudices  as  unchangeable  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
All  in  all  a  fine,  sound  stock.  They  gave  to  the  community  a  tone  which 
it  has  never  lost,  making  it  moral,  religious,  conservative;  perhaps  too 
conservative,  but  who  can  say  so  positively?  They  made  it  also  critical; 
but  in  free  communities  criticism,  indisputably  one  of  the  inalienable 
rights,  is  frequently  so  salutary  that  it  may  almost  be  classed  among  the 
duties.  But  neither  conservatism  nor  criticism  has  prevented  changes, 
and  a  few  of  the  minor  ones  may  be  named  with  profit — possibly. 

Forty  years  ago  we  were  satisfied  with  conditions.  There  was  but 
little  extreme  poverty,  and  social  ambitions  and  rivalries  were  hardly 
known.  The  descendants  of  the  older  settlers,  connections  that  had 
grown  rich  in  commerce  and  by  the  increase  of  land  values  were  tacitly 
allowed  social  precedence,  but  did  not  assert  it  offensively.  There  were 
very  few  foreigners,  or  persons  of  immediate  foreign  descent.  The 
extent  and  the  variety  of  kinships  was  confusing,  and  no  words  were  so 
much  in  use  as  those  denoting  collateral  relationships.  "Cousin"  was 
the  hardest  worked  of  all  words,  and  any  well-dressed  person  passing 
along  the  street  bestowed  it  graciously  at  every  step  upon  other  well- 
dressed  persons. 

General  conditions  were,  if  not  primitive,  at  least  unpretentious.     We 

d37) 


138  CHANGING  CUSTOMS 

had  gas,  and  policemen,  and  a  volunteer  fire  department  equipped  with 
engines,  hand-pumped  and  supplied  from  cisterns  in  the  streets.  Some 
streets  were  macadamized,  but  many  were  not;  and  in  rainy  seasons 
the  macadam  was  submerged  in  two  or  three  inches  of  black  semi-liquid 
mud,  while  the  unimproved  thoroughfares  produced  from  six  to  twelve 
inches  of  rich,  yellow  mire  that  first  yielded  to  vehicles  and  pedestrians 
and  then  attached  itself  to  them  in  liberal  quantities  and  invincible  ad 
hesion.  We  had  not  many  fine  houses,  and  in  personal  expenditure 
there  was  a  praiseworthy  economy.  Sunday  was  strictly  observed,  and 
even  necessary  luxuries,  such  as  cigars  and  soda  water,  could  not  be 
bought  anywhere  on  that  day.  The  multi-colored  and  mysterious  soft 
drinks,  which  are  ravaging  the  modern  stomach,  had  not  then  been  de 
vised.  Our  amusements  were  distinctly  primitive.  There  was  no  the 
atre;  but  two  or  three  halls  held  small,  but  intensely,  appreciative  audi 
ences  for  such  aggregations  as  the  Gilbert  Sisters  and  the  Swiss  Bell 
Ringers.  It  can  hardly  be  believed  by  the  present  generation  of  young 
people  that  their  fathers  and  mothers  in  their  youth  actually  enjoyed 
the  "Swiss  Bell  Ringers"  and  such  inane,  moral  and  sermonizing  plays  as 
"Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar  Room;"  but  they  must  recall  that  "Sappho"  and  oth 
er  high  grade  strongly  seasoned  plays  of  that  kind,  and  the  almost  equally 
admirable  and  aesthetic  lighter  productions,  such  as  "McFaddens  Flats," 
are  results  of  advanced  intelligence,  liberality  and  sophistication.  We 
held  in  those  days  that  there  were,  even  then,  plays  that  young  people 
ought  not  to  see,  and  books  that  they  ought  not  to  read,  an  opinion  which 
the  improved  intelligence  of  this  day  has  entirely  discarded.  Our  babes 
of  this  day  are  not  fed  upon  the  insipid  milk  of  moral  tales  and  proper 
little  plays,  but  upon  the  strong  meat  of  the  Balzac  novels  and  the  Sar- 
dou  plays.  We  went  to  dances  at  half-past  seven,  while  now  we  go  at 
half-past  ten.  Most  startling  of  all  is  the  indisputable  fact  that  many 
fathers  and  mothers  of  that  day  objected  to  round  dances,  and  barely 
approved  the  now  long  forgotten  square  ones.  The  "german"  fought 
its  way  to  parental  acceptance  with  infinite  difficulty. 

Our  manners  were  old  and  formal.  Young  men  solicited  engage 
ments,  now  called  "dates,"  with  young  ladies,  by  somewhat  elaborate 
notes,  containing  an  invariable  expression  of  the  writer  s  very  formal 
but  always  genuine  compliments,  a  method  conspicuously  inferior  to 
the  present  one  of  off-hand  salutation  over  the  telephone,  ignoring  forms, 
and  without  any  suggestion  of  compliment.  The  boys  called  all  the 


CHANGING  CUSTOMS  139 

girls  "Miss,"  and  always  raised  their  hats  to  them,  which,  it  must  be 
conceded,  requires  much  more  exertion  than  to  say  "hello"  without  more, 
as  sometimes  occurs  now.  Men  did  not  smoke  when  walking  with  the 
other  sex;  but  this  has  been  changed  for  the  better,  or  at  least  made  op 
tional,  and  cigarettes,  or  even  cutty  pipes  now  and  then  parade  the  streets 
with  ladies;  and,  really,  an  unprejudiced  mind  will  hardly  deny  that 
since  the  invention  of  amorphous  flat  hats  for  young  men,  and  the  intro 
duction  of  cuffed  trousers  of  indefinite  expansibility,  cigarettes  and  pipes 
are  not  only  admissible,  but  by  comparison  ornamental.  It  must  be 
admitted,  however,  that  there  are  still  a  good  many  young  men  who  have 
not  adopted  the  innovations  here  commended.  Another  conspicuous 
improvement  of  the  present  time  is  in  the  fundamental  matter  of  foot 
wear.  The  beau  of  the  last  generation,  or  the  last  but  one,  bestowed 
his  foot,  if  his  means  permitted,  in  a  pump  soled  boot,  which  had  a  reduc 
tive  effect,  whereas  his  more  cultured  successor  of  this  generation  affects 
a  thick  sole  of  cuneiform  outlines,  which  magnifies  the  foot,  and,  most 
important  and  desirable  of  all,  makes  him  pigeon-toed.  Upon  the  whole 
it  would  seem  that  the  pigeon-toed  shoe  is  the  most  extraordinary  prod 
uct  of  contemporary  culture  and  genius. 

But  let  us  not  be  intolerant  or  deny  the  young  people  all  reasonable 
liberty.  If  they  should  do  only  the  things  which  their  fathers  and  moth 
ers  did,  there  would  be  an  end  of  progress,  and  we  should  become  another 
China.  The  world  grows  steadily,  both  wiser  and  better,  and  a  degree 
of  independence  in  children  is  not  incompatible  with  filial  duty,  and  mis 
takes  seem  to  be  essential  to  success.  We  of  the  passing  generation 
also  had  our  little  absurdities,  and  frequently  went  counter  to  the  pro 
prieties  as  our  elders  conceived  them;  and  it  is  so  with  every  generation. 
Forty  years  ago  there  were  certain  elaborately  mannered  elderly  men 
who  were  called  "gentlemen  of  the  old  school."  Now  these  are  all  gone, 
and  those  who  thus  described  them  and  admired  them  without  imitating 
them  always  are,  in  turn,  "gentlemen  of  the  old  school;"  and  ere  long 
the  boys  who  now  wear  peg-top  trousers  and  pigeon-toed  shoes  will  suc 
ceed  to  the  name  and  fame  though,  probably,  in  other  kinds  of  trousers 
and  shoes.  All  men  become  conservative  at  about  forty  years  of  age, 
and  are  more  or  less  intolerant  of  new  things,  large  and  small;  but  the 
world  goes  on  changing  despite  their  disapproval,  and  the  net  result 
is  substantial  progress.  The  orators,  poets  and  preachers  of  each  gener 
ation  are  prone  to  describe  the  present  as  degenerate.  It  was  so  of  old 


I4O  CHANGING   CUSTOMS 

and  is  so  now.  The  greatest  writers  and  speakers  of  all  ages  have  la 
mented  the  degeneration  of  the  race,  so  that  it  would  seem  that  the  world 
has  been  going  always  from  bad  to  worse,  whereas  exactly  the  opposite 
is  true.  Let  us  not  conclude  hastily,  however,  that  every  change  is  for 
the  bet  er,  or  that  novelty  and  progress  are  identical. 

Many  new  things  do  not  last  and  ought  not  to  last.  As  to  manners, 
if  the  new  ones  stand  the  test  of  use,  they  will  supersede  the  old  ones, 
and  will  be  respected  and  admired  as  manifested  by  the  "gentlemen  of 
the  old  school,"  who  are  now  growing  up.  We  may  assume  positively 
that  men  will  always  respect  and  protect  good  women,  if  the  women 
will  submit  to  be  protected.  Good  changes  endure,  bad  ones  do  not. 

We  are  proud  of  the  honorable  history  of  Knoxville  and  attached  to 
its  traditions  of  conservatism  and  respectability,  but  we  must  submit 
to  constant  changes  and  in  manners,  fashions,  and  everything  else,  con 
cede  much  to  the  rising  generation,  which  in  a  few  years,  must  control 
affairs  in  their  turn. 


EAST  TENNESSEE  IN  STATE  HISTORY.* 

T  the  outset,  I  am  driven  to  the  confession  that  I  was  born  in 
East  Tennessee  without  the  extenuating  circumstance  of 
proximity  to  the  Watauga  river.  The  same  misfortune  hav 
ing  befallen  several  generations  of  my  ancestors,  it  is  natural 
that  I  should  be  an  apologist  of  that  section. 

East  Tennessee  is  physically  isolated.  The  great  mountain  ranges  that 
gird  it  not  only  shelter  it  from  the  storms  that  ravage  the  coast  lands 
and  the  cyclones  that  devastate  the  West  and  the  Northwest,  but  like 
wise  divert  travel  and,  in  a  measure,  impede  contact  with  the  world. 
But  while  there  is  little  experimental  knowledge  of  it,  there  is  much  sec 
ondary  and  even  intuitive  knowledge.  I  have  heard  the  phrase  "Typical 
East  Tennessean"  from  persons  who  had  never  been  within  five  hun 
dred  miles  of  Tennessee.  The  East  Tennessean  who  does  wrong  is  prompt 
ly  declared  "typical."  As  a  result  of  the  fact  that  political  harmony  has 
not  prevailed  between  the  grand  divisions  of  the  State,  East  Tennessee 
has  become  typical  of  all  political  error.  Persons  engaged  in  the  inven 
tion  and  manufacture  of  impossible  dialect  for  literary  uses  select  it  as 
the  scene  of  dialectic  and  impossible  romances,  and,  therefore,  it  has 
become  typical  of  uncouthness  of  manners  and  of  speech.  If  these  state 
ments  be  exaggerations,  they  are  at  least  not  without  elements  of  truth. 

I  ask  your  attention  to  a  brief  review  of  East  Tennessee  history  in 
the  hope  that  we  may  find  in  it  some  relieving  circumstances. 

The  first  decade  of  our  history  belongs  absolutely  to  East  Tennessee. 
During  that  time  the  settlements  on  the  Watauga  and  the  Holston  arose, 
flourished,  and  banded  themselves  together  as  a  republic,  the  first  estab 
lished  anywhere  by  men  of  American  birth.  In  state  history  and  in 
national  history  the  Watauga  Association  is  recorded  among  the  most 
important  things  of  that  time.  It  will  remain  forever  one  of  the  pleasing 
and  signal  proofs  of  the  sturdy  manhood  and  independence  of  our  an 
cestors. 

One  hesitates  to  touch  a  subject  so  well  worn  as  King's  Mountain, 
and  yet  it  is  the  right  of  the  mountain  people  to  have  it  named.  There 
are  today  in  the  hills  of  East  Tennessee  thousands  of  the  descendants 

*  An  address  delivered  during  the  Tennessee  Centennial  at  Nashville,  on  Knoxville  Day 
June  17,  1897.  (  141  > 


142  EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY 

of  the  East  Tennessee  pioneers  who  followed  Sevier  upon  that  memor 
able  expedition. 

Four  years  later  the  free  men  of  the  mountains  hastily,  it  may  be, 
but  bravely  and  with  worthy  purpose,  established  another  government 
of  their  own,  and  this  too  has  become  a  noted  fact  of  American  history. 
The  state  of  Franklin  proved  the  aptitude  and  the  capacity  of  the  peo 
ple  for  self-government,  and,  if  its  history  be  lacking  in  heroic  incident, 
it  records  the  intelligent  and  patriotic  self-restraint  of  the  people  of  both 
factions,  under  the  most  trying  conditions.  The  first  legislature  of  Frank 
lin,  obedient  to  the  sound  influences  that  dominated  the  people,  passed 
an  act  for  the  promotion  of  learning,  the  first  of  its  kind  west  of  the 
Alleghanies. 

I  am  not  of  the  number  who  find  no  influence  but  the  Scotch-Irish 
in  our  first  history,  but  certainly  it  was  dominant.  We  can  never  forget 
the  services  of  Doak,  Balch,  Craighead,  Gumming,  Carrick  and  Houston, 
preachers  of  the  truth,  pioneers  of  education  and  civilization.  Doak 
established  in  East  Tennessee  the  first  "literary  institution"  in  the  Mis 
sissippi  Valley. 

In  1794  the  legislature  of  the  Territory  south  of  the  River  Ohio  char 
tered  Blount  College,  the  first  purely  non-sectarian  college  in  America. 

With  the  establishment  of  the  territory  came  to  Knoxville  that  most 
gracious  and  imposing  personage,  William  Blount,  and  his  yet  more 
gracious  and  admirable  wife,  Mary  Grainger  Blount.  Knoxville  for 
almost  a  quarter  of  a  century  was  the  capital  of  the  State  and  the  center 
of  its  political  and  social  life. 

The  most  conspicuous  figure  was  Sevier,  the  prince  of  pioneer  lead 
ers,  not  a  perfect  man  nor  infallible,  but  endowed  with  every  quality 
to  fit  him  for  leadership  in  such  times,  and  to  command  the  devotion  and 
admiration  of  the  people.  No  man  of  his  time  surpassed  him  in  public 
favor  or  public  services,  or  had  a  larger  part  in  shaping  the  institutions 
of  the  State  and  the  tastes  and  character  of  the  people.  None  save 
Andrew  Jackson  has  so  powerfully  impressed  himself  upon  the  history 
of  the  State. 

Archibald  Roane,  the  dignified  gentleman,  the  scholar  and  jurist,  a 
man  of  thought,  endowed  with  no  capacity  for  frontier  leadership,  but 
excelling  by  pure  force  of  intellect  and  character,  succeeded  Sevier  as 
governor,  held  with  credit  the  highest  judicial  positions  and  now  lies 
buried  in  the  valley  of  East  Tennessee. 


EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY  143 

Joseph  McMinn,  the  upright,  the  farmer  governor,  is  to  be  honor 
ably  remembered. 

Conspicuous  for  a  time  above  all  but  Sevier  was  William  Cocke, 
the  great  orator,  the  foremost  of  his  kind  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  the 
Ulysses  of  our  heroic  age  as  Sevier  was  its  Achilles. 

A  great  man  and  a  good  man,  whose  history  was  the  most  honorable, 
was  Joseph  Anderson,  judge  of  the  territorial  court,  and  for  eighteen 
consecutive  years  a  Senator  of  the  United  States.  To  no  other  of  our 
great  men  have  the  people  been  so  ungrateful.  He  deserves  to  rank 
among  the  foremost,  and  yet  he  has  but  a  line  in  our  written  histories. 

John  Cocke,  the  son  of  the  great  orator,  was  a  gallant  soldier,  a  dis 
tinguished  member  of  Congress  and  has  a  fixed  place  in  State  history 
as  the  founder  of  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  School. 

Richard  G.  Dunlap,  the  first  born  of  Knoxville,  a  soldier  of  this  repub 
lic  and  of  the  republic  of  Texas,  is  called  by  Ramsay  the  founder  of  the 
public  school  system  of  Tennessee. 

Hugh  Lawson  White  was  the  greatest  financier  Tennessee  has  ever 
produced,  a  jurist  of  eminence  and  of  spotless  integrity,  a  statesman  so 
great  and  so  pure  that  even  the  power  of  Andrew  Jackson  did  not  pre 
vail  against  him  in  Tennessee.  He  was  named  "the  just,"  and  the  "Amer 
ican  Cato."  Called  upon  to  choose  between  conviction  on  the  one  hand 
and  place  and  power  on  the  other,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  lay  down  his 
high  office  and  to  sacrifice  his  ambition.  He  left  a  name  as  pure  and  as 
admirable  as  any  in  our  American  annals. 

Spencer  Jarnagin,  as  an  orator,  lawyer  and  statesman,  is  hardly  sur 
passed  in  Southern  history.  He  was  a  power  in  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  even  in  the  time  of  the  great  triumvirs.  As  a  constitutional  law 
yer  he  has  no  superior  in  the  annals  of  the  Tennessee  bar. 

William  B.  Reese  was,  with  the  possible  exception  of  John  Haywood, 
the  most  learned  man  that  ever  sat  on  the  bench  of  Tennessee.  He  was 
the  peer  of  any  of  the  great  judges  who,  in  the  second  quarter  of  this  cen 
tury,  won  for  the  supreme  court  of  Tennessee  the  respect  and  admiration 
of  lawyers  and  courts  throughout  the  English  speaking  world. 

Robert  J.  McKinney,  another  East  Tennessee  judge,  ranked  with 
Reese  and  Green  and  Turley,  and  thus  two  of  the  four  great  judges  of 
that  golden  age  were  from  East  Tennessee. 

Thomas  A.  R.  Nelson  was  by  nature  an  orator.  At  the  bar  and  on 
the  hustings  he  had  no  superior  in  Tennessee.  He  spoke  on  the  floor 


144  EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY 

of  Congress  and  the  English  press  proclaimed  his  speech  the  highest  prod 
uct  of  American  oratory.  He  defended  Andrew  Johnson  in  the  great 
impeachment  trial.  When  the  war  was  ended  the  magnanimity  of  his 
character  was  manifested  in  fearless  and  self-sacrificing  defense  of  South 
ern  men. 

The  rival  of  his  earlier  days,  Landon  C.  Haynes,  is  remembered  as  a 
man  marvelously  gifted  in  speech  and  fearless  enough  to  defend  and  to 
praise  East  Tennessee. 

As  the  prejudices  of  the  war  died  away,  we  see  that  among  the  names 
that  do  most  honor  to  East  Tennessee  is  Horace  Maynard,  lawyer,  jurist, 
statesman,  diplomat.  Of  massive  intellect,  profoundly  learned,  equal 
to  every  call  made  upon  him  in  a  long  and  militant  life,  he  served  the 
public  faithfully  and  efficiently,  and  died  respected  and  honored  as  a 
great  man  and  as  a  good  man. 

Altogether  unique  in  Tennessee  history  is  William  G.  Brownlow, 
the  fighting  parson,  governor  and  senator.  To  one  party  a  hero,  almost 
a  martyr,  to  the  other  the  embodiment  of  everything  repellent.  But 
whatever  may  be  said  or  thought  of  him,  his  ability  and  force  of  char 
acter  and  his  tremendous  influence  in  the  affairs  of  Tennessee  will  not  be 
denied. 

The  life  of  Andrew  Johnson  is  the  highest  possible  tribute  to  the  be 
neficence  of  American  institutions.  From  the  most  obscure  beginning 
he  rose  to  the  highest  position  in  this  country — in  any  country.  Not  with 
out  grave  faults,  he  possessed  extraordinary  strength  and  force,  and  for 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  wielded  an  unequalled  influence  in  Ten 
nessee.  He  was  congressman,  governor,  senator,  vice-president,  presi 
dent,  always  independent,  honest,  fearless. 

The  best  work  ever  done  in  Tennessee  history  was  by  Ramsay,  the 
East  Tennessee  historian. 

If  we  look  to  the  people  we  shall  find  them  from  the  beginning  largely 
of  Covenanter  stock — the  true  democratic  stock.  Not  always  Presby 
terian,  for  in  the  very  earliest  years  of  our  history  the  great  Methodist 
and  Baptist  denominations  began  and  have  grown  until  they  are  stronger 
now  than  all  others.  But  whatever  the  faith  of  the  people,  the  love  of 
education  was  characteristic  of  all.  I  have  shown  how  Doak  and  Carrick 
lead  the  way.  The  old  colleges  that  were  founded  in  the  last  century, 
Washington,  Greeneville,  Blount,  still  stand.  The  last  has  grown  into 
the  University  of  Tennessee;  and  of  the  University  of  Tennessee,  I  desire 


EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY  145 

to  repeat  here  deliberately  what  I  have  said  elsewhere,  that  a  few  years 
ago  it  was  excelled  among  Southern  institutions  only  by  the  University 
of  Virginia,  and  now  I  say  it  is  excelled  by  none.  I  believe  that  the  Uni 
versity  of  Tennessee  in  the  quality  of  its  work  is  superior  to  any  other 
university  or  college  in  the  Southern  States.  In  support  of  this  strong 
declaration  I  invite  the  examination  of  its  curriculum,  and  the  investiga 
tion  of  its  workings.  It  has  a  faculty  that  would  do  honor  to  any  insti 
tution,  and  its  work  is  always  thorough.  The  time  is  near  at  hand  when 
the  fact  will  be  recognized  that  the  diploma  of  the  University  of  Tennes 
see  means  as  much  as  the  diploma  of  that  venerable  and  great  institution, 
the  University  of  Virginia.  And  all  this  has  been  accomplished  in  full 
compliance  with  the  requirements  of  the  agricultural  college  acts,  which 
I  dare  avow  in  the  face  of  any  assertion  to  the  contrary.  May  not  we 
hope  for  the  coming  of  a  time,  when  encouragement,  and  not  unkindness, 
will  be  the  policy  of  Tennessee  toward  this  splendid  institution  which 
worthily  bears  her  own  name  ? 

Opportunities  for  higher  education  are  now  offered  in  East  Tennes 
see  by  colleges  at  Bristol,  Greeneville,  Mossy  Creek,  Maryville,  Knox- 
ville,  Harriman,  Athens,  Hiwassee,  Rogersville,  Sweetwater,  Cleveland 
and  Chattanooga.  These  are  all  well-supported  and  are  contributing, 
as  they  ought,  to  the  University  of  Tennessee,  which  is  now  in  very  truth 
a  university.  In  every  county  in  East  Tennessee  there  is  an  efficient 
school  system,  and  at  nearly  every  place  of  prominence  a  training 
school  or  academy. 

The  results  of  the  activity  in  educational  matters  are  apparent  on 
every  hand.  The  standard  of  culture  is  constantly  advancing,  and  the 
tone  of  social  life  steadily  improving.  Much  literary  work  is  being  done. 
The  Centennial  has  for  the  time  set  the  fashion  and  most  of  the  work  is 
in  Tennessee  history.  There  are  at  least  seven  men  in  the  city  of  Knox- 
ville  alone,  who  have  recently  published  independent  original  work  in 
State  history,  and  there  are  others  at  Greeneville,  Jonesboro,  Chatta 
nooga  and  elsewhere.  An  immense  improvement  in  literary  methods 
is  manifest,  and  the  work  that  is  being  done  is  as  a  rule  highly  creditable. 

If  we  consider  the  material  development  of  the  State,  especially  since 
the  war,  the  record  of  East  Tennessee  is  one  of  constant  and  healthy 
progress.  The  natural  conditions  are  exceptionally  favorable.  A  recent 
writer  says  of  the  valley  of  which  East  Tennessee  forms  a  part  that: — 

"Taken  as  a  whole  no  other  region  in  the  civilized  world  of  like  extent 

10 


146  EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY 

can  compare  with  it  in  its  foundation  for  sustaining  in  health,  comfort 
and  prosperity  a  dense  population."  The  Valley  of  East  Tennessee  is 
two  hundred  and  forty  miles  long  and  sixty  miles  wide.  The  Tennes 
see  River  waters  its  entire  length,  receiving  many  affluents  on  the  way. 
The  valley  lands  are  as  rich  as  any  part  of  the  earth.  The  hills  and  the 
mountains  that  rise  on  either  hand  are  storehouses  of  coal,  iron,  copper 
and  zinc.  Thes.e  treasures  have  hardly  been  touched,  and  yet  the  mines 
at  Coal  Creek,  where  only  a  beginning  has  been  made,  send  immense 
supplies  of  coal  through  all  the  South  and  Southwest  The  largest  mar 
ble  mill  in  this  country  is  at  Knoxville.  The  soil  of  East  Tennessee 
has  a  foundation  of  marble  and  in  many  places  the  high  ways  are  actu 
ally  metalled  with  marble.  The  people  of  the  cold  Northwest  are  learn 
ing  that  in  East  Tennessee  supplies  of  marble,  copper,  coal,  and  zinc 
are  unlimited;  iron  ores  lie  contiguous  to  lime  beds;  water  power  and 
timber  abound,  and  the  frost  never  paralyzes  industry.  In  this  beauti 
ful  and  genial  valley  all  conditions  of  health,  comfort  and  prosperity  meet 
together.  The  torrid  airs  of  the  South  never  invade  it,  and  the  moun 
tains  ward  off  the  bitter  winds  that  rise  on  the  prairies.  In  this  lovely 
valley,  high  above  the  sea  level,  health  abides  perpetually,  and  every 
condition  favors  the  highest  intellectual,  social  and  industrial  develop 
ment. 

This  is  our  view  of  East  Tennessee,  and  to  all  we  confidently  and  cor 
dially  extend  the  invitation  to  see  for  themselves.  No  part  of  the  earth 
has  been  more  favored  by  nature.  And  the  people  are  doing  their  part 
with  energy,  wisdom  and  success.  Erelong  the  childish  prejudices  of 
section  against  section  that  have  at  times  existed  in  Tennessee  will  not 
be  respectable  in  East  Tennessee.  What  city  has  done  more  to  aid  this 
splendid  enterprise  than  Knoxville?  We  have  had  at  home  a  corps  of 
earnest  workers  for  the  Centennial  from  the  very  first.  The  city  secured 
the  right  to  levy  a  special  tax  to  erect  this  building.  In  the  opening  days 
of  the  Centennial  the  newspapers  teemed  with  accounts  of  speeches  and 
addresses  by  Knoxville  women,  who  have  shown  a  beautiful  and  abiding 
faith  and  enthusiasm.  They  are  here  today  adorning  the  occasion,  and 
I  believe  for  the  first  time  allowing  us  of  the  other  sex  to  occupy  the  plat 
form.  They  excel  us  in  every  good  and  admirable  quality,  and  we  are 
content  to  yield  them  the  first  place  in  everything. 

In  East  Tennessee,  recognizing  the  truth  that  this  is  one  great  State, 
and  not  three  little  States,  we  would  gladly  obliterate,  if  possible,  all 


EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY  147 

divisional  lines.  What  is  to  be  gained  by  perpetual  criticism?  Does 
any  division  of  the  State  believe  that  censures  of  another  will  advance 
the  interests  of  any?  The  war  divided  us;  but  the  war  ended  thirty  years 
ago.  Shall  we  forever  feed  on  recollections  of  it,  and  forever  cherish  the 
bitterness  of  it?  The  people  of  Middle  Tennessee  and  of  West  Tennes 
see  are  of  the  same  origin  and  the  same  race  as  the  people  of  East 
Tennessee.  Difference  of  environment  and  of  occupation  have  begotten 
differences  of  opinion.  In  the  great  war  between  the  States,  Middle  and 
West  Tennessee  went  with  the  South,  while  East  Tennessee  gave  twenty- 
eight  thousand  men  to  the  Federal  armies.  Since  the  war  the  feeling 
thus  engendered  has  been  kept  alive  by  rash  people  and  mutual  intoler 
ance. 

Last  week  patriotic  utterances  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  de 
claring  the  perfect  restoration  of  the  Union,  were  applauded  to  the  echo  on 
these  grounds.  Cannot  we  now  declare  Tennessee  re-united  ?  The  fault  has 
not  all  been  on  one  side.  Bitterness  and  intolerance  have  existed  here  as 
much  as  beyond  the  mountains.  Indeed  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  it  is  my 
observation  that  harsh  and  censorious  speech  is  much  more  common 
west  of  the  mountains  than  it  is  in  East  Tennessee.  The  time  has  come 
when  all  this  should  cease.  Looking  back  over  the  history  of  Tennes 
see  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  twenty-five  years  beginning  with  the  adop 
tion  of  our  second  Constitution,  the  State  enjoyed  a  prosperity  and  also 
a  prominence  in  the  affairs  of  the  nation  equalled  by  only  one  other  State. 
This  was  our  golden  age.  In  it  Jackson  and  Polk  held  the  presidency, 
Bell  and  Polk  were  speakers  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  Hugh  L. 
White,  Grundy,  Bell,  Foster,  Eat^n,  Nicholson  and  Andrew  Jackson 
were  in  the  Senate.  Aaron  V.  Brown,  Grundy  and  Cave  Johnson  held 
cabinet  offices,  and  White  and  Nicholson  declined  them;  John  Catron 
was  on  the  Supreme  Bench  of  the  United  States;  Peyton,  Jones,  May- 
nard,  Etheridge,  Harris,  Hatton,  Campbell,  and  Haskell  were  in  Congress, 
and  Green,  Reese,  Turley  and  McKinney  were  on  the  Supreme  Bench. 
Population  was  increasing  phenomenally;  commercial  and  industrial 
interests  were  steadily  advancing,  and  in  agricultural  and  live  stock  pro 
ductions  the  State  was  among  the  foremost.  Everything  prospered. 
Every  interest  material  and  moral  was  advancing.  It  was  a  time  to 
which  we  may  look  with  just  pride  and  to  find  inspiration  to  earnest, 
unselfish  and  harmonious  effort  for  the  re-establishment  of  the  pros 
perity  and  the  greatness  of  Tennessee.  The  achievements  of  that  splendid 


148  EAST  TENNESSEE   IN   STATE   HISTORY 

time  are  the  heritage  of  all  Tennesseans.  When  we  shall  have  again 
the  spirit  of  that  time  we  shall  equal  and  surpass  its  achievements.  If 
we  cannot  erase  divisional  lines  from  our  Constitution,  we  can  erase  them 
from  our  hearts,  and  let  us  hope  that  this  Centennial  Exposition  will  be 
one  of  the  means  of  accomplishing  that  great  and  beneficent  result.  For 
Tennessee  united,  all  things  good  are  possible. 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE 

Oh,  a  roaring  blue  devil  am  I, 
Well  tanked  with  gasoline; 

No  other  Auto  in  all  the  town 
Is  in  my  class,  I  ween. 

My  regular  gait  along  Gay  Street 
Is  just  a  mile  a  minute; 

And  when  I  do  one  half  my  best 
No  other  Auto  's  in  it. 

Wherever  I  go,  in  town  or  out, 

I  do  just  what  I  like; 
But  if  you  wish  to  see  a  show 

Just  watch  me  hit  the  pike. 

At  Chamberlain's  I  take  a  start 
And  toot  my  raucous  toot, 

And  then  with  ninety  horse  power  on 
I  surely  shoot  the  chute. 

Two  seconds  later,  Maynard's  house 

I  fill  with  swirling  dust, 
And  powder  all  of  Maynard's  yard, 

To  Maynard's  deep  disgust. 

On  Templeton's  colonial  porch 
Sits  Templeton  at  ease — 

I  laugh  and  smother  him  in  dust 
To  hear  him  cough  and  sneeze. 

Then  next  I  come  to  Oliver 

And  throw  dust  in  his  eyes — 

A  deed  which  done  by  any  one 
Is  cause  for  great  surprise. 

Nor  Coxe's  stately  greenery 

Can  stay  the  whelming  tide 

Of  dirt  and  dust  and  cobble  stones 
I  spread  in  surges  wide. 


(149) 


150  THE    SONG  OF  THE   AUTOMOBILE 

Then  fair  Modena's  lofty  halls, 
High  seated  on  the  hill, 

With  yellow  sweepings  of  the  pike 
Most  joyously  I  fill. 

On  Mellen's  hill  I  grip  the  stones 

And  wrest  them  from  the  ground, 

And  so  macadamize  the  fields 
For  many  acres  round. 

And,  thus,  two  minutes  out  of  town, 
Or  at  the  most,  in  three, 

I've  dusted  all  that  dwell  between 
The  town  and  Cherokee. 

Ten  country  wagons  I  have  met 
And  caused  ten  run-aways; 

But  country  wagons  are  no  good 
In  these  progressive  days. 

All  quadrupeds  I  sure  despise, 
And  therefore  I  delight 

To  throw  a  stupid  quadruped 
Into  a  frantic  fright. 

To  see  a  buggy  in  the  ditch 
And  hear  the  driver  swear 

Is  undiluted  joy  to  me, 

And  one  that  is  not  rare. 

Who  hears  my  honk  resounding  far 
That  instant  clears  the  way, 

For  I'm  the  owner  of  the  pike 
In  this  progressive  day. 

Some  fogies,  lingering  past  their  time, 
Will  say  I  leave  a  smell; 

But  all  these  foolish  fogies  say 
I  proudly  scorn  to  tell. 

It  is  not  true  that  I'm  too  fast, 
'Tis  most  absurd,  you  know, 

Because  the  fault's  the  other  way — 
The  others  are  too  slow. 


THE   SONG  OF  THE   AUTOMOBILE  151 

And  so  I  go  my  joyous  way 
Along  the  crowded  street, 

A  terror  to  all  living  things 
-ri       T  i  fe 

lhat  1  may  chance  to  meet. 

The  rustics  see  me  on  the  pike 

With  wonder  and  amaze, 
And  often  utter  shocking  oaths 

While  helplessly  they  gaze. 

The  law  sends  out  its  myrmidons 

To  check  my  roaring  speed, 
But  I'm  a  law  unto  myself 

And  give  no  other  heed. 

For  a  roaring  blue  devil  am  I 

Well  tanked  with  gasoline, 
And  the  biggest  thing  that  this  old  town 

Has  smelled,  or  heard,  or  seen. 


LAST  DAYS  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON  * 

OME  to  bury  Caesar  and  to  praise  him.  We  have  reached 
the  closing  scenes  in  the  life  of  the  only  absolute  monarch 
that  ever  has  reigned  in  these  United  States.  We  have  fol 
lowed  him  from  his  cradle  in  Waxhaw  to  the  wilderness  of 
Tennessee.  We  have  seen  him  a  State  Attorney  wielding  not  only  the 
ordinary  legal  weapons,  but  also,  the  now  disused  ones,  knives,  pistols 
and  fence  rails;  a  Congressman  who  made  no  speeches;  twice  a  Senator 
and  twice  resigning  the  toga;  we  have  seen  him  in  the  Creek  War  mas 
tering  mutiny,  cramp  colic  and  many  other  foes  visible  and  invisible; 
we  have  seen  him  at  New  Orleans  bruising  the  head  of  the  British  lion 
and  making  himself  President;  in  Florida  hanging  aborigines  and 
aliens  of  many  nationalities,  with  equal  and  impartial  disregard  of  law; 
in  battle  with  the  hosts  of  federalism  and  respectable  conservatism;  in 
the  White  House  at  last,  the  providence  of  a  mighty  multitude  of  office 
seekers;  in  strifes  often  with  the  well  tried  powers  of  the  great  bank; 
in  perils  of  nullification,  and  victorious  over  all.  At  last  his  reign  has 
ended,  his  successor,  chosen  by  himself,  his  own  undisputed  political 
offspring,  sits  in  his  place,  and  he  is  about  to  seek  in  rural  seclusion,  in 
far  off  Tennessee,  such  rest  as  can  come  to  souls  as  restless,  strenuous 
and  militant  as  his.  He  is  seventy  years  of  age,  and  his  attenuated  frame 
is  racked  with  many  ills,  his  nerves  are  shattered,  and  despondency  at 
times  overcomes  even  his  iron  will. 

He  had  been  born  to  lead.  He  had  been  reared  on  the  frontier.  He 
had  learned  early  to  love  strife,  and  had  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  con 
tention  and  of  violence.  Literally,  he  had  fought  his  way  through  the 
world,  and  he  knew  nothing  but  fighting.  I  do  not  think  that  such  men 
ever  desire  or  seek  rest.  To  the  last  moment  they  long  for  action.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  Diocletian  and  Charles  V.  were  hardly  less  unhappy 
in  their  boasted  philosophic  retirements  than  Napoleon  was  in  his  most 
unphilosophic  seclusion  at  St.  Helena. 

Seclusion  and  the  pursuit  of  philosophy  and  growing  cabbages  may 
be  acceptable  to  contemplative  minds,  but  not  to  Napoleons  and  Caesars 
and  Jacksons.  Jackson  was  in  no  respect  contemplative.  He  was  the 
incarnation  of  energy  and  of  combativeness.  The  excitements  of  poli- 

*  This  paper  was  the  last  of  a  series  read  before  The  Irving  Club  by  divers  members  thereof 
on  the  life,  service  and  character  of  "'Old  Hickory."  ( 153  ) 


154  LAST  DAYS  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON 

tics  or  of  the  battlefield  were  essential  to  his  happiness.  I  do  not  doubt 
that  he  left  the  White  House  feeling  as  Napoleon  felt  when  he  left  Fon- 
tainebleau  after  his  abdication;  and  I  am  very  sure  that  the  least  happy 
years  of  his  life  were  those  when  he  was  so  situated  that  he  could  not 
fight.  However,  he  was  in  all  respects  a  man  far  beyond  the  ordinary, 
and  if  he  was  not  happy  in  retirement  he  was  at  least  dignified  and  did 
not  discredit  himself. 

His  circumstances  when  he  retired  were  hardly  opulent.  He  owned 
the  Hermitage  farm,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  negroes,  but  the  farm 
was  out  of  repair,  and  he  got  home  with  exactly  ninety  dollars  in  money. 
However,  the  want  of  money  did  not  matter  very  much  in  Tennessee 
in  good  old  days,  for  we  can  recall  the  time  when  men  could  borrow  for 
the  asking  and  repay  in  moderate  fractions  at  indefinite  remote  periods. 

His  love  of  fine  horses  remained  as  one  of  the  solaces  of  his  secluded 
life,  and  in  a  general  way  he  showed  efficiency  as  a  planter.  He  was 
too  large  hearted  and  large  minded  to  care  much  for  money,  but  one 
could  hardly  fail  to  thrive  on  such  a  plantation  as  the  Hermitage. 

Not  long  after  his  return  a  piece  of  good  fortune  befell  him.  His 
favorite  negro  servant  was  charged  with  murder,  and  was  in  great  dan 
ger  of  conviction,  and  this  gave  Jackson  six  weeks  of  keen  excitement 
and  the  opportunity  to  contribute  fifteen  hundred  dollars  toward  the 
proper  maintenance  of  the  honorable  profession  of  the  law. 

Of  course  the  Hermitage  was  the  seat  of  an  unbounded  hospitality; 
everybody  went  there,  and  all  were  welcome. 

Another  of  the  lost  arts  to  which  the  retired  President  gave  much 
attention  was  letter  writing.  Benevolence  had  not  yet  become  an  exact, 
persistent  and  intrusive  science,  although  even  then  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  violent,  self  determined  altruism;  but  many  persons,  actuated 
by  many  motives,  wrote  letters  to  Jackson  and  very  much  of  his  time 
and  strength  was  given  to  answering  them.  Others  may  have  written 
his  state  papers,  but  he  wrote  his  own  letters  with  his  own  hand  and  in 
the  old  fashioned  proper  way.  The  modern  type-written  business  let 
ter  is  altogether  the  most  atrocious  thing  that  the  perverted  abilities  of 
mankind  have  conceived:  "Yours  4th  to  hand.  Contents  noted. 
Thanks.  Yours  truly." 

The  juggernaut  car  of  business  has  crushed  the  propriety,  almost 
the  decency  out  of  letter  writing,  and  it  is  an  unspeakable  relief  to  happen 
upon  an  old  letter  with  its  old  time  elaborate  courtesies  and  gracious 


LAST  DAYS  OF   ANDREW  JACKSON  155 

deferences.  Upon  the  whole  I  know  of  nothing  in  which  there  is  so 
much  ill-breeding,  so  much  utter  and  abominable  commonness  as  in  let 
ter  writing. 

Old  Hickory  was  an  old-fashioned  letter  writer,  as  fine  in  his  letter 
writing  manners  as  in  his  other  manners.  No  great  man  would  or  could 
write  a  "contents  noted,"  "thanks"  and  "yours  truly"  letter.  It  is  pleas 
ant  to  think  of  this  old  man,  who  had  long  filled  the  world's  eye,  sitting 
at  his  desk  and  writing  with  his  own  hand  the  finely  courteous  letters 
of  an  elder  and  better  bred  generation  to  all  who  wrote  to  him. 

And  so  the  days  went  by  at  the  Hermitage;  by  day  the  fields,  the 
hands,  the  horses,  the  many  visitors,  the  incessant  letters  coming  and 
going;  by  night  the  old  clay  pipe  with  its  long  reed  stem,  and  the  chat 
beside  the  cheerful  and  reminiscent  wood  fire.  The  blazing  logs  kindled 
the  fires  of  his  memory  and  much  history  was  rehearsed  in  their  cheer 
ful  glow.  Always  the  favorite  theme,  the  thing  of  which  he  was  most 
proud,  was  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  known  then  and  for  many  years 
afterwards  as  New  Orleens.  By  the  Hermitage  fireside  he  dissipated 
the  cotton  bale  theory  and  declared  that  there  was  not  one  cotton  bale 
in  his  line  of  breastworks. 

Many  relics  were  collected  at  the  Hermitage,  among  them  the  pistol 
which  he  had  used  in  the  duel  with  Dickinson.  I  know  by  personal 
observation  that  men  may  believe  in  dueling  as  other  men  believe  the 
gospel,  and  am  not  surprised  that  Jackson  could  to  his  last  day  look 
from  his  bed  of  sickness  upon  this  pistol  lying  on  his  mantel  and  feel 
no  regret.  Along  with  the  duelist's  conviction  of  the  rectitude  of  the 
code,  went  the  chivalrous  and  affectionate  conviction  that  nothing  could 
have  been  wrong  that  had  been  done  for  the  sake  of  his  dear  and  lamented 
wife. 

Like  Napoleon,  Jackson  was  something  of  a  fatalist,  and  like  Napo 
leon  he  had  not  a  little  of  the  dramatic  instinct,  and  he  kept  carefully 
the  old  uniform  which  he  had  worn  at  New  Orleans,  and  which  was 
afterwards  placed  in  the  Patent  Office  at  Washington,  where  I  presume 
it  may  be  seen  now. 

Of  course  Jackson  could  not  be  silent  as  to  politics.  In  1840  as  in  1836 
he  befriended  his  political  son,  Van  Buren,  and  of  course  assailed  Harrison. 
In  that  same  year  Mr.  Clay  came  by  invitation  to  Nashville,  and  spoke 
to  an  immense  and  enthusiastic  audience,  the  Whig  party  having  begun, 
as  the  saying  was,  to  "feel  its  oats"  at  that  time.  The  oration  was  strictly 


156  LAST  DAYS  OF   ANDREW  JACKSON 

decorous,  according  to  the  unexacting  standards  of  the  time,  but  of  course 
much  was  to  be  said  of  Jackson  and  of  Van  Buren.  The  last  was  a  fine 
subject  for  the  kind  of  satire  in  which  Clay  excelled,  and  there  was  also 
attractive  opportunity  for  comment  upon  the  unfortunately  large  num 
ber  of  defalcations  that  had  occurred  recently  among  office  holders. 
Clay  referred  to  Edward  Livingston  as  a  defaulter.  The  next  day  Jack 
son  published  a  letter  in  the  Nashville  Union  in  which  he  denounced  this 
charge  as  false.  Having  been  informed  that  Clay  had  said  that  one  of 
his  appointees,  Samuel  Swartout  of  New  York,  had  been  an  associate 
of  Aaron  Burr,  Jackson  retorted  in  this  letter  that  Clay  himself  had  been 
friendly  with  Burr,  and  had  secured  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State  by 
a  bargain.  He  concluded  by  characterizing  Clay  as  a  demagogue,  and 
as  being  contemptible  and  as  a  slanderer  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead. 
All  of  which  shows  that  a  retired  President  can  still  find  ways  of  enjoying 
himself.  Clay  in  return  declared  the  letter  "impotent,  malevolent, 
derogatory,"  etc.  In  this  year  Jackson's  friend  and  biographer,  John  H. 
Eaton,  supported  Harrison,  because  the  democrats  favored  the  hard 
money,  single  standard,  and  Eaton,  as  Jackson's  minister  to  Spain,  hav 
ing  seen  the  operation  of  a  single  standard  system  in  that  country,  op 
posed  its  adoption  here,  which  shows  that  if  history  never  repeats  itself 
it  sometimes  reverses  itself. 

The  financial  troubles  of  Van  Buren's  administration  caused  Jackson 
no  compunctions.  He  readily  saw  that  the  whole  trouble  had  been 
caused  by  the  abominable  Bank,  by  paper  money  and  by  speculation. 

In  1842  he  became  financially  involved  on  account  of  his  adopted 
son  and  was  compelled  to  borrow  $10,000  from  his  friend  Francis  P. 
Blair,  editor  of  the  Washington  Globe. 

Blair  and  Rives  wished  to  lend  him  the  money  in  such  a  way  that 
it  would  really  be  a  gift,  but  he  would  accept  it  only  on  business  terms. 
About  the  same  time  Congress  voted  to  refund  the  fine  of  one  thousand 
dollars  that  he  had  paid  at  New  Orleans.  This,  with  interest,  amounted 
to  twenty-seven  hundred  dollars,  and  the  bill  to  repay  it  passed  the  Sen 
ate  by  a  strict  party  vote.  In  the  house  there  seems  to  have  been  a  little 
less  party  bigotry.  Mr.  C.  J.  Ingersoll,  of  Pennsylvania,  was  a  hearty 
supporter  of  the  bill,  and  it  is  evident  that  admiration  of  Jackson  is  one 
of  the  permanent  characteristics  of  his  distinguished  family. 

And  now  the  shadows  began  to  settle  more  darkly  about  Jackson. 
He  could  not  fail  to  see  the  approach  of  the  one  enemy  to  whom  all  men 
must  yield. 


LAST  DAYS   OF   ANDREW  JACKSON  157 

It  has  been  my  observation  of  history  that  generally  great  men  are 
essentially  religious.  I  do  not  mean  necessarily  orthodox.  Napoleon 
rebuked  unbelief  and  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
Our  own  Washington  and  Webster  are  examples  of  strong  religious 
belief.  Special  education  warps  the  mind,  but  great  minds  have  been 
usually  devout  minds. 

The  unmistakable  approach  of  death  had  its  effect  upon  Jackson. 
I  am  sure,  however,  that  he  told  the  truth  when,  in  1838  he  wrote:  "I 
would  long  since  have  made  this  solemn  public  dedication  to  Almighty 
God,  but  knowing  the  wretchedness  of  this  world  and  how  prone  men 
are  to  evil,  that  the  scoffer  of  religion  would  have  cried  out  hypocrisy, 
he  has  joined  the  Church  for  political  effect,  I  thought  it  best  to  post 
pone  this  public  act  until  my  retirement  to  the  shades  of  private  life, 
when  no  false  imputation  could  be  made  that  might  be  injurious  to  relig 
ion." 

As  he  was  not  a  liar  nor  a  hypocrite  these  statements  can  hardly  be 
denied  and  certainly  they  are  highly  honorable.  It  was  two  or  three 
years,  however,  after  he  retired  that  he  entered  the  Church.  The  per 
son  who  directly  influenced  him  in  this  matter  was  Dr.  Edgar,  a  Pres 
byterian  minister  of  Nashville.  Parton  gives  an  extended  and  not 
wholly  unsympathetic,  and  it  may  be,  untrue  account  of  the  matter.  I 
do  not  either  like  or  trust  Mr.  Parton,  who  knew  everything  and  believed 
in  nothing  but  himself. 

It  would  seem  that  there  was  a  protracted  meeting  in  the  church  on 
the  Hermitage  farm.  On  the  last  day  of  the  meeting  Dr.  Edgar  preached 
a  sermon  which  powerfully  affected  Jackson,  who  after  the  meeting 
requested  the  minister  to  go  home  with  him.  He  was  unable  to  accept 
the  invitation,  and  so  Jackson  passed  most  of  the  night  alone  or  in  com 
pany  with  his  adopted  daughter  in  prayer,  or  in  reading  upon  religious 
subjects.  When  morning  came  his  purpose  was  settled  and  his  mind 
at  ease.  Soon  after  sunrise  Dr.  Edgar  arrived  at  the  Hermitage  and 
after  the  good  old  manner  examined  Jackson  as  to  his  state  of  mind 
and  belief.  Everything  was  satisfactory  until  the  minister  asked,  "Gen 
eral,  can  you  forgive  all  your  enemies?"  This  question  was  a  hard  one 
to  Jackson,  as  it  is  to  all  men,  and  much  harder  than  to  most  men. 
"My  political  enemies,  said  he,  I  can  freely  forgive,  but  as  for  those  who 
abused  me  when  I  was  serving  my  country  in  the  field,  and  those  who 
attacked  me  for  serving  my  country — Doctor,  that  is  a  different  case." 


158  LAST  DAYS  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON 

Being  assured  by  the  clergyman  that  this  was  not  true,  and  that  a  Chris 
tian  must  forgive  all  his  enemies,  Jackson  finally  declared  that  he  could 
do  even  that.  And  so  one  morning  in  the  little  church  of  the  Hermitage 
Andrew  Jackson,  having  passed  the  age  of  seventy  years,  was  admitted 
into  the  communion  of  the  Presbyterian  Church.  In  order  to  make 
the  required  declaration,  he  stood  leaning  heavily  upon  his  cane,  while 
the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  The  congregation,  which  the  building 
could  not  accommodate,  was  overcome  with  emotion,  as  was  the  minister. 

From  this  time  forward  he  gave  most  of  his  leisure  time  to  the  study 
of  the  Bible.  Parton  says  that  he  read  prayers  in  the  presence  of  his 
family  and  servants  nightly.  He  was  nominated  for  the  office  of  Elder 
in  the  church,  but  declined  because  he  had  so  lately  become  a  member. 

The  last  political  matter  to  engage  his  attention  was  the  annexation 
of  Texas.  In  1843,  Gilmer,  of  Virginia,  published  in  a  Baltimore  news 
paper  an  argument  for  the  annexation  of  Texas.  This  letter  was  sent  to 
Jackson,  with  a  request  for  his  opinion,  by  Aaron  V.  Brown,  of  Tennessee. 
This  is  alleged  to  have  been  part  of  an  intrigue  against  Van  Buren. 
The  plan  being  to  get  Jackson's  support  of  annexation,  and  keeping  this 
secret  to  entice  Van  Buren  into  a  contrary  declaration,  after  which  Jack 
son's  letter  was  to  be  made  public  to  Van  Buren's  undoing. 

Jackson  wrote,  fully  endorsing  the  plan  of  annexation,  forgetting 
or  not  caring  that  twenty-four  years  earlier  he  had  declared  that  Texas 
was  not  necessary  to  the  United  States.  His  letter  was  dated  February  12, 

1843.  For  eleven  months  it  was  not  made  public.     In  the  meantime 
Van  Buren,  the  wily,  had  declared  himself  in  favor  of  annexation  if  it 
could  be  accomplished  peaceably,  but  as  opposed  to  it  as  an  immedi 
ate  measure,  and  without  regard  to  the  rights  of  Mexico.     In  March, 

1844,  the  letter    appeared    with  the  date    changed    from  1843   to  1844. 
Jackson    being  still   devoted   to  his   political  child,  wrote  a  second  let 
ter,  re-affirming  the  position  taken  in  the  first,  but  eulogizing  Van  Buren 
in  the  highest  terms.     Nevertheless  Van  Buren  did  not  get  the  coveted 
nomination,  which  went  to  James   K.   Polk,  of  Tennessee. 

Jackson  supported  Polk  and  Dallas  with  characteristic  vigor,  reviv 
ing  the  old  charges  of  bargain  and  intrigue  against  Clay.  Parton  says 
that  the  "controlling  cause  of  Henry  Clay's  unexpected  defeat  in  1844 
was  the  opposition  of  Andrew  Jackson."  I  do  not  believe  this,  while 
I  do  not  doubt  that  there  is  a  large  element  of  truth  in  the  assertion. 
It  is  reasonably  certain  that  the  expansion  issue  was  as  important  then 


LAST  DAYS   OF   ANDREW  JACKSON  159 

as  in  1900,  and  was  more  a  favorite.  In  honor  of  Folk's  election, 
Jackson  entertained  two  hundred  persons  at  an  open  air  dinner  at 
the  Hermitage. 

Early  in  1845  it  became  evident  that  the  end  was  at  hand.  For 
thirty  years  Jackson  had  never  been  well.  The  marvelous  natural 
vigor  of  his  constitution  had  been  impaired  in  every  conceivable  man 
ner.  From  his  bloody  encounter  with  the  Bentons,  he  had  gone,  with 
unhealed  wounds,  to  endure  the  hardships  and  privations  of  the  Creek 
War,  having  before  that  been  shot  by  Dickinson.  From  the  time  of  the 
Dickinson  duel  he  had  frequent  hemorrhages.  After  1815  he  was  a 
confirmed  dyspeptic.  To  stop  these  hemorrhages  he  resorted  to  bleed 
ing,  and  for  various  purposes  used  strong  medicines  profusely.  He 
was  excessively  addicted  to  coffee,  and  both  smoked  and  chewed  tobacco. 
He  was  now  afflicted  with  an  incessant  cough;  one  lung  was  gone  and 
the  other  was  impaired,  and  in  addition  to  all  this  he  was  tormented 
and  disfigured  with  dropsy. 

In  the  midst  of  the  sufferings  caused  by  all  these  ills  he  displayed 
an  invincible  fortitude  and  strangely  enough  a  gentle  and  unfailing  pa 
tience.  Agony  could  wring  no  complaint  from  him.  The  most  irascible 
of  men  had  become  the  most  patient.  He  had  been  always  honest 
and  brave.  I  believe  that  he  was  sincere  in  saying  that  he  had  been 
religiously  disposed  for  a  long  time.  It  is  certain  that  he  had  that  relig 
iousness  which  belongs  to  high  and  sincere  and  strong  minds.  I  do 
not  doubt  that  he  was  afraid  of  death.  All  men  are  afraid  of  it  except 
very  young  agnostic  philosophers.  But  whatever  may  have  been  the 
cause  Jackson  was  in  his  last  days  a  model  of  patience,  having  been 
always  a  model  of  fortitude. 

On  the  24th  of  May,  1845,  ne  to°k  tne  communion  in  presence  of  his 
family,  and  said  that  he  was  ready  to  die.  He  died  June  8,  1845,  at  S1X 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  His  last  words  were:  "Be  good  children  and 
we  will  all  meet  in  heaven."  He  was  buried  at  the  Hermitage  beside 
his  wife,  of  whom  he  said  not  long  before  his  death:  "Heaven  will  be 
no  heaven  if  I  do  not  meet  my  wife  there."  I  have  not  space  to  tell  of 
the  public  meetings  that  were  held  in  his  honor,  of  the  many  eulogies 
that  were  pronounced  and  of  the  dissents  that  proved  how  long  revenge 
can  live  in  some  minds.  In  the  main  it  was  true  that,  instantly,  upon 
his  death  the  country  realized  that  it  had  lost  one  of  its  greatest  and  best 
men;  but  it  may  be  remarked  that  after  theological  controversy,  political 


l6o  LAST  DAYS   OF  ANDREW  JACKSON 

party  spirit  can  beget  deeper  and  more  enduring  and  more  unreasoning 
animosity  than  any  other  cause  can  produce. 

In  conclusion  I  say  of  Jackson  that  few  men  have  had  more  faults  and 
fewer  still,  more  virtues.  He  was  profane,  he  was  fond  of  cock  fighting 
and  of  horse  racing;  he  was  violent,  a  duelist  and  a  brawler,  and  in 
some  of  his  quarrels  was  grossly  in  the  wrong;  he  was  obstinate  to  an  in 
tolerable  degree,  and  when  in  anger,  was  prone  to  that  worst  form  of  little 
ness,  vindictiveness  and  revenge;  he  was  wholly  intolerant  of  opposition, 
and  while  an  ardent  and  sincere  lover  of  liberty,  had  very  little  of  that 
regard  for  the  opinions  of  others,  which  is  essential  to  good  citizenship 
in  a  free  country. 

On  the  other  hand  he  was  honest,  and  was  sincere  in  his  friendship 
and  frank  in  speech;  he  was  brave  to  rashness;  he  was  as  sincere  a  patriot 
as  ever  lived,  and  there  was  no  sacrifice  which  he  would  not  have  made 
for  his  country,  indeed  there  was  hardly  any  that  he  did  not  make;  he 
had  moral  courage,  or  mental  courage,  I  think  more  than  the  cheap  ani 
mal  courage  which  the  vulgar  insist  upon  classing  as  a  cardinal  virtue. 
He  was  a  chaste  man  in  word  and  in  conduct,  of  a  fine  and  dignified 
courtesy,  fond  of  children,  and  had  when  free  from  anger  a  kind  and 
tender  heart. 

His  services  to  the  country  were  various  and  great.  In  crushing  the 
Creek  Indians  he  deprived  England  of  allies  who  might  otherwise  have 
demanded  the  attention  of  the  army  which  he  carried  to  New  Orleans. 
At  New  Orleans  he  redeemed  the  honor  of  American  arms  and  made 
priceless  contribution  to  the  glory  of  his  country.  As  President  he  was 
faithful,  fearless  and  honest. 

The  enemy  of  secession,  who  does  not  acknowledge  the  indebtedness 
of  his  party  and  cause  to  Jackson,  is  either  blinded  by  prejudice,  or  is  ig 
norant  or  insincere.  In  1833  Jackson  was  ready  to  do  more  than  Buchanan 
did  in  i86o,and  as  much  as  Lincoln  did  in  1861.  Not  all  Webster's  speeches, 
not  all  other  influences  together  did  so  much  to  develop  and  confirm  senti 
ment  against  the  State's  rights  doctrines  as  Jackson's  course  toward  nulli 
fication;  this  was  the  little  secession  that  preceded  the  great  one,  and  whose 
suppression  taught  how  the  greater  might  in  turn  be  suppressed. 

At  all  times,  and  under  all  circumstances  Jackson  loved  his  country 
and  served  it  faithfully,  honestly  and  bravely.  With  his  patriotism  4he 
mingled  solicitude.  He  had  been  born  the  subject  of  a  King.  He  knew 
the  history  of  the  past,  and  how  literally  true  it  is  that  "eternal 


LAST  DAYS   OF   ANDREW  JACKSON  l6l 

vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty."  He  had  none  of  that  easy  confi 
dence  that  nothing  could  hurt  us,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  our 
own  time.  In  his  day  there  was  none  of  that  overwhelming  conceit 
of  ourselves,  which  we  conplacently  describe  as  faith  in  the  destiny  of 
the  Republic.  One  may  conjecture  what  he  would  think  and  say  if 
he  could  revisit  his  country  and  see  the  colossal  proportions  of  our  na 
tional  vanity.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  it  has  had  no  parallel  in  the  history 
of  vanities.  The  strut  of  our  Americanism  is  superlative.  France 
never  has  approached  our  present  condition  of  national  vanity.  The 
triumph  awarded  Scipio  when  he  returned  with  his  victorious  legions 
from  the  conquest  of  his  country's  most  formidable  enemy  and  the  over 
throw  of  the  greatest  soldier  of  antiquity  had  not  half  the  splendor  and 
glorifications  of  Dewey's  triumph  for  sinking  the  worst  equipped  fleet  that 
ever  fought  a  pitched  battle. 

One  of  the  things  that  impress  us  in  reading  of  the  earlier  days  of 
the  Republic  is  the  solicitude  and  apprehension  for  the  fate  of  our  coun 
try,  constantly  expressed.  This  is  notably  true  of  Jackson.  He  knew, 
and  many  others  have  been  wise  enough  to  know,  that  liberty  must  be 
guarded  jealously  and  that  neither  culture,  nor  wealth,  nor  conceit 
will  preserve  it. 

He  was  essentially  American  and  democratic.  Until  he  became 
President  the  government  had  been  in  the  hands  of  an  element  that  repre 
sented  the  culture  and  the  opinions  of  colonial  times.  It  was  respectable, 
educated  and  as  a  rule  «lt*»-conservative.  This  was  not  altogether 
true  of  Jefferson,  but  generally  speaking  the  statement  is  correct.  About 
the  time  that  Jackson  was  first  a  candidate  for  the  presidency,  this  older 
generation  was  losing  its  hold  upon  the  country.  Power  was  passing 
to  the  new  and  growing,  the  crude,  American  and  democratic  West. 
John  (^uincy  Adams  was  the  last  representative  of  the  old  regime.  This 
excellent  and  cultured  gentleman,  collegian,  precisian,  puritan,  prude, 
was  succeeded  by  a  Tennessee  backwoodsman  who  had  no  ancestry, 
no  pride  of  class,  no  conservatism^  almost  no  culture,  who  swore  roundly 
and  often,  smoked  a  cob  pipe,  chewed  tobacco  and  was  in  fact  the  thor- 
OUgh^going  democrat,  the  gemnne__CQrnrnnner  that  Mr.  Jefferson... h on- 
estly  tried  _t_n  be.  Jackson  was  the  first  President  who  was  wholly  Ameri- 
can  in  ideas.  He  carried  the  West  to  Washington.  He  made  Tennes 
see  for  twenty  years  of  equal  political  importance  with  New  York,  Penn 
sylvania  o^3  Massachusetts.  He  inspired,  guided,  aided  many  Tennes- 


1 62  LAST  DAYS   OF   ANDREW  JACKSON 

scans  to  high  places  and  to  honors,  sending  them  abroad  as  representa 
tives  of  the  Republic,  placing  them  upon  the  Supreme  Bench  and  in 
the  Cabinet.  His  lieutenants  in  Tennessee  were  among  the  most  skill 
ful  politicians  and  the  most  accomplished  statesmen  of  the  time.  Among 
them  were  Lewis,  Overton,  Catron,  Aaron  V.  Brown,  John  H.  Eaton, 
Hugh  L.  White  until  1835,  and  James  K.  Polk.  In  all  probability  Tennes 
see  will  never  again  enjoy  the  political  influence  and  importance  that 
she  possessed  in  the  golden  days  of  General  Jackson. 

What  was  the  secret  of  Jackson's  success?  One  will  say  it  was  wjlj- 
power,  another  that  it  was  a  chance  prominence  at  a  time  when  the  influ 
ences  for  which  he  stood  were  ascendant,  still  another  that  it  was  the 
victory  of  New  Orleans,  and  so  on.  I  can  only  say  that  he  was  a  great 
man.  I  cannot  define  the  quality  of  greatness,  but  we  know  that  it  ex 
ists,  that  there  are  great  men.  We  may  dispute  Jackson's  greatness, 
and  logically  we  might  even  disprove  it,  but  the  fact  remains.  Never 
in  any  company  of  men  was  he  second.  He  was  always  first.  He  had 
not  the_intellect  of  Calhoun  or  Webster,  nor  the  eloquence  of  Clay  or 
the  learning  of  Adams.  Even  in  courage  and  power  of  will  there  were 
other  public  men  who  were  his  equals,  but  for  at  least  two  decades  he 
was  the  foremost  man  in  America.  If  we  cannot  say  in  what  greatness 
consists,  we  know  that  there  is  such  a  thing,  and  that  Jackson  was  one 
of  the  men  to  whom  Providence  has  seen  fit  to  grant  it  in  high  degree. 


e>> 


UNCHASTITY  IN  FICTION.* 

OREIGNERS  protest  that  English  fiction  is  too  sanguinary; 
that  it  is  continually  red  with  blood  of  men  or  beasts.  The 
objection  is  strenuously  urged  by  French  critics. 

In  France  the  passion  of  love  furnishes  the  novelist  his 
material.  Englishmen  as  well  as  Frenchmen  love,  and  write  of  love. 
In  the  English  love  story,  the  hero  wins  the  heroine  virtuously,  by  deeds 
which  prove  his  worth  and  commend  him  alike  to  his  mistress  and  to 
the  reader.  The  French  love  story  is  more  than  likely  to  be  one  of  in 
trigue  and  amour.  The  illegitimate  gratification  of  the  passion  plays  a 
subordinate,  indeed  an  insignificant,  part  in  the  imaginative  writing  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon.  That  race  has  constantly  exalted  personal  purity, 
and  has  rigidly  guarded  the  institution  of  marriage.  Many  sins  may 
be  laid  at  the  doors  of  the  English  nobility  of  our  own  and  of  other  times; 
but  it  remains  true  that  the  people,  the  intelligent  masses,  who  after  all 
are  the  substance  of  the  nation  and  the  controlling  power  in  it,  have 
always  maintained  the  highest  standard  of  morals,  and  have,  both  in 
action  and  in  thought,  accomplished  the  best  results  of  modern  times. 
This  .applies  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  in  all  countries,  England,  America, 
Australia.  His  personal  purity  is  manifest  in  his  literature  no  less  than 
in  his  life. 

Nowhere  has  illicit  love  been  so  freely  used  as  a  seasoning  for  fiction 
as  in  France.  I  have  elsewhere  asserted  that  the  "erotic"  fiction  of 
America  is,  in  great  part,  the  direct  product  of  French  romance,  a  state 
ment  which  cannot  be  successfully  denied.  But  while  the  wicked  French 
novel  has  furnished  the  model  for  the  construction  of  its  American  coun 
terfeit,  the  phenomenon  of  the  existence  and  popularity  of  a  great  and 
increasing  number  of  erotic,  that  is  to  say,  immoral  and  indecent  tales, 
in  a  country  which  was  settled  mainly  by  Anglo-Saxons,  and  in  which 
they  are  still  dominant,  must  be  further  explained;  and  the  explanation 
lies  largely  in  the  fact  that  immigration,  especially  in  the  great  cities,  has 
produced  a  hybrid  population  and  lower  standards  of  taste  and  morals. 
Thus  the  toleration  of  these  books  does  not  indicate  so  much  a  revolution 
of  sentiment  among  the  Anglo-Saxon  people  of  America  as  a  change  in 
the  constitution  of  our  population  in  certain  localities. 

But  whatever  the  explanation  may  be,  we  have  the  books.     The  cheap 

*  Published  in  Fetter's  Southern  Magazine,  August,  1893.  ( 163  ) 


164  UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION 

market  is  flooded  with  them,  and  their  authors'  pockets  are  presumably  dis 
tended  with  profits.  It  has  been  the  popular  belief  that  these  books  have 
been  written  solely  because  they  find  a  ready  market.  Unquestionably  they 
supply  a  demand.  The  writers  have  been  considered  as  defying  the  better 
public  opinion  and  pandering  to  depraved  appetites,  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  personal  profit.  Of  nearly  all,  if  not  of  all,  this  judgment  is  probably 
correct.  But  they  have  been  writing  and  selling  at  a  rate  which  has 
filled  with  envy  and  despair  the  soul  of  many  a  better  but  impecunious 
writer  of  the  old  conservative  fashion.  I  have  neither  space  nor  incli 
nation  to  discuss  the  relative  merits  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  Latin  civiliza 
tions.  I  content  myself  with  repeating  that  the  opinions  in  regard  to 
illicit  love,  and  the  place  it  should  be  allowed  in  literature,  and  the  method 
of  its  treatment,  of  which  the  novelists  of  adultery  complain,  are  so  many 
manifestations  of  the  character  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  The  charac 
teristic  thus  manifested  cannot,  in  my  judgment,  be  eradicated,  nor  be 
disregarded  with  impunity,  and  certainly  this  is  devoutly  to  be  wished. 
The  romancers  of  illicit  love  may  have  the  support  of  the  numerically 
strong,  but  morally  and  intellectually  inferior  elements  of  our  popula 
tion,  composed  mainly  of  foreigners,  but  never  of  the  better  and  con 
trolling  class  of  Anglo-Saxon  Americans,  nor  of  the  strong  and  morally 
sound  Celtic  element.  The  writers  who  are  endeavoring  to  establish 
as  the  staples  of  American  fiction  these  various  examples  of  forbidden 
love  defend  themselves,  when  assailed,  by  crying  "candor!"  "art!" 
They  advise  us  of  the  fact  that  this  is  an  "era  of  shams"  and  that  they 
are  the  Anti-shams.  We  are  told  that  the  French  surpass  us  in  art, 
and  being  a  plain,  practical  people,  we  submit  to  the  dictum,  and  tolerate 
the  indecency  of  Belot  and  De  Maupassant  because  we  do  not  wish  to 
appear  ignorant  of  art. 

Let  us  inquire  which  is  superior — French  or  English  fiction — leaving 
out  considerations  of  morality  for  the  present,  and  looking  only  to  liter 
ary  results.  Admitting  that  the  question  cannot  be  answered  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all  tastes  and  opinions,  I  venture  the  assertion  that  no 
one  but  a  Frenchman  or  a  Franco-American  fictionist  would  claim  that 
the  advantage  rests  with  the  French. 

In  England  and  in  America  we  confidently  assert  the  superiority  of 
English  fiction.  If  to  borrow  a  phrase  from  trade,  we  take  the 
total  output  of  English  fiction,  where  shall  we  find  it  surpassed?  If 
we  descend  to  particular  authors  and  books,  have  not  the  English 


UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION  165 

been  as  successful  and  as  influential  as  the  French?  Was  Balzac  greater 
than  Dickens  or  Thackeray,  Dumas  than  Scott,  George  Sand  than  George 
Eliot?  Is  there  a  single  novel  in  the  French  language  that  has  greater 
literary  merit  than  the  first  twenty  of  Scott's,  or  a  half  dozen  of  Thack 
eray's  or  George  Eliot's  or  Bulwer's,  or  than  the  "Scarlet  Letter"  and 
"The  Marble  Faun?" 

If  French  fiction  is  not  superior,  it  is  certainly  a  discreditable  fact, 
provided  we  admit  that  the  "love  that  goes  astray"  affords  the  best  op 
portunities;  for  there  is  no  disputing  that  it  has  made  use  of  this  love 
with  unlimited  freedom,  while  English  fiction  has  been  persistently 
restricted.  The  radical  difference  between  the  French  and  the  English 
novel  in  this  respect  is  explicitly  recognized  and  is  dwelt  upon  by  Taine. 

Does  not  the  logic  of  results  demonstrate  that  the  erotic  writers  over 
rate  the  importance  of  illicit  love  in  the  "economy"  of  the  novel?  The 
English  and  the  French  schools  accurately  and  fully  represent  two  oppos 
ing  systems.  Has  not  the  English  produced  better  results?  Is  there  a 
man  or  woman  outside  of  France  who  would  say  that  the  world  could 
better  spare  the  English  than  the  French  novel?  Can  French  literature 
furnish  a  novel  as  artistically  constructed,  against  which  the  critics  of 
any  nationality  can  find  so  little  to  say,  as  against  Esmond?  Has  not 
Mrs.  Stowe  surpassed  even  Victor  Hugo  in  writing  a  novel  of  purpose? 
Will  it  be  denied  that  there  are  more  great  novels,  whether  considered 
merely  as  works  of  literary  art  or  with  reference  to  utility,  in  the  English 
than  in  any  other  language? 

If  the  French  surpass  us  in  art,  then  art  must  be  synonymous  with 
immorality.  If  we  consider  novels  as  affecting  society  practically,  to 
what  conclusion  shall  we  come  as  to  the  comparative  merits  of  French 
and  English  fiction? 

Statistics  show  that  family  life  is  much  more  irregular  in  France  than 
in  England.  It  is  an  undisputed  fact  that  personal  purity  in  both  sexes 
is  less  esteemed  and  less  practiced  in  France  than  in  England.  The 
percentage  of  illegitimate  births  in  France  steadily  averages  from  seven 
to  eight.  In  England  it  ranges  from  four  to  five.  In  England  the  aver 
age  of  education  is  higher  than  in  France.  The  English  are  the  most 
enlightened,  the  most  progressive,  the  most  influential  and  most  respected 
people  of  Europe.  England  has  the  best  and  the  best  conducted  govern 
ment  in  Europe.  In  so  far,  then,  as  opinions,  manners  and  institutions 
are  affected  by  imaginative  literature,  the  decision  based  upon  the  best 
available  evidence  must  be  against  the  French. 


1 66  UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION 

But  it  is  the  people  who  make  the  novel.  The  Anglo-Saxon  civiliza 
tion  is  the  best  and  the  purest.  The  English  novel  represents  it  truly 
as  the  French  novel  represents  truly  a  high,  but  nevertheless  com 
paratively  inferior,  and  in  some  respects  vicious,  civility.  The  English 
people  being  no  less  intelligent  than  the  French,  and  being  in  advance 
of  them  both  in  morals  and  in  education,  it  is  a  logical  result  as  well  as 
a  fact  that  their  intellectual  production  is  superior. 

It  is  not  a  fact,  as  has  been  asserted,  that  the  English  and  the  Amer 
ican  public  have  denied  to  novelists  the  right  to  treat  the  subject  of  illicit 
love.  The  requirement  has  simply  been  that  they  should  handle  it  with 
out  indecency  in  language  or  thought,  without  extenuation  or  approval, 
and  without  effort  to  make  vice  attractive.  They  have,  in  effect,  wisely 
extended  to  fiction  the  rules  which  govern  them  in  actual  life.  Perhaps 
it  is  more  accurate  to  say  that  the  habits  and  modes  of  thought  of  the 
English  race  have  made  any  other  method  of  treatment  impossible. 
And  to  this  requirement  all  reputable,  certainly  all  great,  English  novel 
ists  have  strictly  conformed. 

Taine,  a  Frenchman,  holding  the  French  view  of  the  subject,  states 
the  case  almost  fairly:  "If  you  venture  on  a  seduction,  as  in  'Copper- 
field,'  you  will  not  relate  the  progress,  ardor,  intoxication  of  the  amour; 
you  will  only  depict  its  miseries,  despair  and  remorse." 

As  we  wish  to  be  a  chaste  and  virtuous  people,  we  do  not  approve  of 
the  intoxication  of  amours;  we  do  not  discuss  amours  in  our  families; 
and  we  do  not  believe  that  M.  Zola  nor  M.  Belot  nor  any  American  imi 
tator  should  be  permitted  to  enlarge  on  the  ardors  of  adulterous  associa 
tion,  in  the  intimate  intercourses  between  author  and  reader.  As  these 
are  the  subjects  which  certain  American  writers  believe  to  afford  their 
talents  and  necessities  the  best  opportunities,  they  naturally  dissent  from 
this  opinion,  but  they  will  with  difficulty  find  any  but  selfish  reasons  to 
support  their  contention. 

There  is  no  warrant  in  logic  for  referring,  as  American  eroticists  fre 
quently  refer,  to  Dickens  or  Scott  for  precedents  to  justify  the  novel  of 
adultery.  Would  the  "erotic"  novelist,  who  recently  presented  to  the  public 
in  a  magazine  article  the  most  nauseous  passages  from  one  of  his  morally 
abominable  and  artistically  absurd  books  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of 
demonstrating  their  high  morality,  and  who  modestly  mentioned  him 
self  in  connection  with  Dickens  and  Scott  have  us  believe  that,  if  he  had 
written  another  "Copperfield"  or  "Heart  of  Midlothian,"  he  would  ever 


UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION  167 

have  been  called  upon  to  defend  it  in  the  press,  much  less  in  the  criminal 
court?  When  did  the  Government  forbid  the  passage  of  the  "Scarlet  Letter" 
through  the  mails?  Does  any  advocate  of  the  new  method  believe  that 
if  he  had  written  the  "Scarlet  Letter"  in  this  "era  of  shams"  he  would 
have  incurred  any  odium  or  inconvenience?  Was  criminal  process  ever 
served  on  Dickens  or  Hawthorne  on  account  of  indecent  publications? 

The  new  "school"  has  been  condemned  because  it  has  declined  to 
follow  the  excellent  and  illustrious  example  of  these  books,  and  has 
bowed  down  to  the  false  gods  of  French  fiction.  Whoever  shall  write 
another  "Copperfield"  or  "Heart  of  Midlothian"  or  "Scarlet  Letter" 
will  have  no  cause  to  complain  of  the  English  and  the  American  public. 
It  is  asserted  that  "the  love  that  goes  astray"  is  the  basis  of  all  the  greatest  nov 
els,  such  as  "Copperfield"  and  "Les  Miserables."  This  is  wholly  absurd  and 
necessarily  insincere.  The  new  erotic  school  will  learn  that  the  sentiment  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race  will  not  yield  to  their  theories.  That  race  holds  it 
self  aloof  from  uncleanness  in  literature  as  well  as  in  life.  It  is  not  blind  to 
the  existence  of  immorality  and  crime.  It  recognizes  the  prevalence  of 
unchastity,  but  it  does  not  frequent  dance  halls,  variety  theaters  and 
worse  haunts  of  vice,  nor  introduce  wives,  sons  and  daughters  to  such 
places,  in  order  to  inculcate  chastity.  Neither  does  it  approve  of 
familiarizing  them  with  the  life  and  method  of  these  places  through 
the  instrumentality  of  books.  It  has  constantly,  strenuously,  endeavored 
to  put  down  these  things  in  society  and  to  exclude  gross  and  unnecessary 
representation  of  them  from  literature.  Whatever  may  be  said  against 
this  practice  and  opinion  is  fully  answered  by  the  facts  of  history.  The 
Anglo-Saxon  race,  by  its  physical,  intellectual  and  moral  superiority  and 
ascendancy,  answers  every  objection. 

There  is  no  department  of  literature  in  which  the  English-speaking 
race  has  not  excelled  every  other  people  of  modern  times.  The  French 
novelists  have  been  as  industrious  and  as  prolific  as  the  English.  The 
sprightly  genius  of  the  French  nation  seems  particularly  adapted  to  the 
lighter  forms  of  imaginative  writing.  We  need  go  no  further  than  our 
American  news  stands  to  be  convinced  of  the  tremendous  activity  of  the 
French  imagination.  There  is,  however,  a  most  tiresome  sameness  of 
theme.  George  Saintsbury  refers  to  his  study  of  French  fiction  as  "a 
long  course  of  reading  about  plain  and  fancy  adultery."  The  people 
write  the  books.  The  character  of  the  people  is  in  the  books. 

When  we  approve  and  adopt  contemporary  Parisian  morals,  we  shall 


1 68  UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION 

write  and  read  French  novels.  The  fact  that  some  classes  of  our  popu 
lation  are  in  a  measure  tolerant  of  Zola  and  Belot  and  their  kind  proves 
that  we  are  becoming  tainted  with  the  immorality  of  which  these  writers 
are  products  and  exemplars.  So  long  and  so  much  as  we  remain  Anglo- 
Saxon  Americans,  we  shall  abhor  the  French  method — and  the  American 
imitation  of  it.  And  no  one  will  deny  that  the  American  erotic  novel  is 
infinitely  more  repulsive  than  its  Gallic  original.  The  American  champions 
of  adultery  in  fiction  have  the  proverbial  enthusiasm  of  beginners;  but 
even  if  it  were  admitted  that  their  present  popularity  is  likely  to  endure, 
it  could  not  be  denied  that  long  and  careful  training  is  necessary  to 
enable  them  even  to  approach  the  facility  and  the  comparative  decency 
of  the  French  writers  in  handling  the  subject. 

The  French  writers  and  critics  and  their  American  imitators  make 
a  fetich  of  art,  and  apparently  construe  art  to  consist  solely  in  the  depic 
tion  of  the  sexual  passion.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  passion  of  love 
affords  the  writer  most  seductive  opportunities  for  producing  effects. 
But  if  there  be  anything  of  which  we  do  not  need  to  be  informed  it  is 
this.  Our  passions  are  like  caged  wild  beasts  constantly  straining  at  the 
bars.  The  contemplation  of  the  subject  inflames  the  imagination.  Na 
ture  has  ordained  that  the  race  be  perpetuated,  and  as  Emerson  says,  has 
accomplished  the  purpose  by  a  tremendous  overloading  of  passion. 

The  French  novelists,  Balzac,  Zola,  Belot,  may  have  no  purpose  to 
excite  passion  or  to  make  vice  attractive.  But  is  it  not  true  that  in  almost 
every  instance  that  result  follows?  The  novelist  defends  himself  by 
pleading  art.  He  declares  that  art  is  neither  moral  nor  immoral,  but 
unmoral.  This  is  all  well  enough  in  the  abstract,  but  art  is  addressed 
to  mankind,  which  is  moral  or  immoral,  which  is  pregnant  with  fierce 
passion.  It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  men  and  women  ought  not  to  be 
affected  except  aesthetically  by  works  of  literary  art.  The  fact  remains 
that  they  are  powerfully  affected.  The  artistic  and  aesthetic  elect  are  full 
of  contempt  for  the  low  and  vulgar  who  cannot  look  without  blushing  or 
evil  thought  upon  the  splendid  achievements  of  art  in  nude  paintings  and 
sculptures.  It  is  indisputable,  however,  that  the  very  paintings  and 
sculptures  which  are  the  most  prized  treasures  and  ornaments  of  the 
picture  galleries  and  museums,  are  copied  and  placed  in  bar-rooms  and 
dance-halls  to  attract  and  gratify  the  low  minds  and  imaginations  of  their 
frequenters. 

The  novel  goes  everywhere.     Its  readers  are  of  all  classes,  but  a  great 


UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION  169 

majority  of  them  are  of  the  very  classes  that  are  most  likely  to  be  influ 
enced  by  the  evil  that  is  found  in  books.  Boys  and  girls,  and  persons 
of  inferior  education  and  taste,  make  this  majority.  To  address  to  them 
such  novels  as  are  flooding  the  cheap  press  and  illuminating  every  news 
stand  with  their  gaudy  covers  is  a  palpable  outrage  against  propriety 
and  decency,  and  a  menace  to  the  morality  and  well-being  of  the  country. 
Between  writer  and  reader  intercourse  is  silent,  long  and  intimate. 
Outside  the  elect  circle  of  artistic  writers  and  critics  is  the  remainder  of 
mankind,  a  considerable  majority,  which  is  incapable  of  reaching  the 
point  of  purely  artistic,  passionless  contemplation.  The  considerations 
here  suggested  may  be  treated  lightly  by  the  writers  and  critics,  but  the 
statements  are  true,  and  the  condition  is  one  which  we  may  not  with 
impunity  disregard. 

It  is  said,  upon  the  other  hand,  that  the  people  can  be  educated  out  of 
this  low,  vulgar,  sensual  habit  of  mind.  "Let  us  elevate  men,"  say  the 
writers,  "by  accustoming  them  to  the  contemplation  of  the  subject.  By 
this  method  we  propose  to  minimize  concupiscence."  This  is  a  result 
greatly  to  be  desired,  but  it  is  worth  while  to  inquire  whether  or  not  there 
is  any  evidence  upon  which  we  may  reach  a  judgment  as  to  the  practica 
bility  of  this  method  of  reform.  The  ancient  Babylonians,  according  to 
Herodotus,  adopted  the  most  efficient  method  of  familiarizing  them 
selves  with  this  subject,  but  the  result  was  not  moral  elevation.  Trav 
elers  in  Italy  may  recall  the  carefully  guarded  museum  in  Naples,  where 
in  are  preserved  abundant  proofs  of  the  fact  that  the  people  of  Pompeii 
and  Herculaneum  had  thoroughly  accustomed  themselves  to  the  con 
sideration  of  the  subjects,  and  that,  too,  through  the  instrumentality  of 
art.  And  yet  it  will  hardly  be  claimed  that,  measured  even  by  stand 
ards  of  their  own  time,  the  people  of  those  unfortunate  cities  were  con 
spicuous  for  superior  morality  or  chastity,  or  that  they  in  any  good  respect 
surpassed  their  compatriots  or  any  of  their  contemporaries. 

Of  all  the  people  of  ancient  times,  the  Jews  were  the  most  chaste. 
Contrast  the  "Whore  of  Babylon"  with  the  people  of  Judea  under  the 
Mosaic  law.  The  Jews  were  not  a  perfect  people.  They  committed 
many  crimes,  were  guilty  of  manifold  follies,  but  they  were  in  the  matter 
under  consideration  comparatively,  at  least,  a  pure  people.  And  what 
ever  opinion  may  be  held  as  to  the  divine  origin  of  their  Scripture,  no  one 
will  deny  that,  scientifically  or  philosophically  considered,  the  laws  which 
regulated  their  conduct  were  the  wisest  and  most  beneficent  of  which 


170  UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION 

ancient  history  contains  any  account.  Chastity  and  a  high  and  persist 
ent  regard  for  the  marriage  relation  have  been  characteristic  of  the  Jews 
throughout  their  history;  and  the  result  is  manifest  in  a  racial  vitality 
and  persistence  which  has  no  parallel.  The  Babylonians  required  their 
women  to  prostitute  themselves,  the  Greeks  and  Phoenicians  had  their 
phallic  worship  and  their  temples  of  Venus  with  their  worship  of  that 
amorous  deity,  as  did  the  Romans.  The  Jews  had  none  of  these. 

Privacy  in  all  sexual  matters,  chastity,  the  rigorous  repression  of 
sexual  passion  were  prescribed  under  strong  penalties  by  the  Mosaic 
law.  "The  Songs  of  Solomon"  and  other  parts  of  the  Old  Testament 
may  be  cited  to  the  contrary,  but  a  comparison  of  Hebrew  literature  and 
life  with  the  literature  and  life  of  any  other  people  of  ancient  times  will 
demonstrate  their  immeasurable  superiority. 

In  modern  times  the  French  people  have,  above  all  others,  pursued 
the  familiarizing  policy.  If  we  go  no  further  back  than  to  Balzac,  it  is 
still  true  that  there  has  been  abundant  time  for  testing  the  merits  of  the 
method  Balzac,  the  high  priest  of  realism  in  fiction,  most  powerfully 
of  all  men  promulgated  the  dogma  of  the  infallibility  of  art.  He  decreed 
the  divorce  of  literature  from  morality,  and  fixed  the  character  of  the 
modern  French  novel.  Born  in  a  transitional  and  unsettled  period, 
reared  in  a  vicious  society,  he  assumed  the  task  of  writing  its  history. 
His  "Human  Comedy"  he  and  his  followers  declare  to  be  a  tran 
script  of  French  life  in  his  time.  After  him  we  name  Flaubert,  and  then 
a  multitude  of  contemporary  historians  of  seduction  and  adultery,  whose 
highly  illuminated  volumes  now  burden  our  American  news  stands  and 
"news  butchers." 

France  has  had  a  deluge  of  sexual  realism.  Has  it  purged  the  people 
of  uncleanness?  The  newspapers  publish  that  ten  per  cent  of  the  family 
life  of  Paris  is  irregular.  Marriage  has  become  so  unpopular  in  France 
that  heavy  penalties  are  contemplated  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  pop 
ulation  and  lessening  immorality  and  illegitimacy.  The  corruption  of 
Paris,  the  heart  of  France,  is  a  proverb  in  the  civilized  world.  No 
doubt  the  French  novel  of  passion  is  artistic,  and  may  be  entitled 
to  high  praise  on  that  account;  but  it  is  popular  in  France  not  alone 
because  it  is  artistic,  but  because  of  the  subject  which  it  so  artistically 
treats.  Sexual  passion  is  not  the  only  subject  that  is  susceptible  of  artis 
tic  treatment.  The  French  novel  has  not  purified  society,  but  has  re 
sponded  to  its  vicious  requirements.  The  effect  of  artistic  portrayals  of 


UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION  IJl 

seduction,  passion  and  fornication  is  not  to  purify,  but  wholly  the  con 
trary.  The  secret  of  its  prevalence  and  popularity  is  the  demand  of  the 
French  people,  not  for  art,  but  for  the  subject;  and  so  far  as  history  and 
statistics  are  proof,  it  is  indisputable  that  the  practical  results  of  the 
method  are  vicious.  And  I  say  again  that  there  is  no  reason  for  declaring 
that  the  unlimited  "candor"  permitted  the  French  novelists  has  pro 
duced  any  appreciable  literary  advancement. 

It  seems  appropriate  to  say  that  the  novelists  are  contending  for  a 
theory  while  the  people  recognize  a  condition.  There  must  be  a  limit 
somewhere  beyond  which  art  cannot  go.  There  are  subjects  with  which 
it  cannot  deal.  There  are  deeds  so  revolting,  subjects  so  repulsive,  that 
even  art  cannot  handle  them.  The  natural  offices  of  the  human  body 
are  necessary,  but  they  are  hardly  fit  subjects  for  the  painter  or  sculptor 
or  novelist.  The  world  is  full  of  indecencies  which  no  artist  would  dare 
portray. 

"Candor"  has  limits,  and  in  art  and  literature  it  may  be  injurious  and 
degrading.  Many  men,  if  they  lived  candid  lives,  would  keep  seraglios; 
would  rob,  steal,  disregard  all  rules  of  ethics  and  morality.  I  am  unable 
to  see  why  society  should  not  restrain  imaginary  men  and  women  within 
the  same  bounds  that  it  sets  to  real  men  and  women.  If  we  wrish  to 
demonstrate  the  evil  effects  of  vice  and  sin,  do  not  men  and  women  of 
flesh  and  blood  afford  stronger  lessons  than  men  and  women  of  fancy? 
If  our  sons  and  daughters  must  study  crime  let  us  take  them  ourselves  to 
beer  halls  and  bagnios,  rather  than  allow  them  to  visit  these  places  in  the 
company  of  Messrs.  Zola,  Belot,  and  their  imitators.  If  novels  be  written 
as  Charles  Reade,  and  sometimes  Dickens,  wrote  them,  with  a  set  pur 
pose  to  right  some  wrong,  fiction  writing  becomes  a  useful  art  and,  there 
fore,  justly  liable  to  criticism  based  upon  practical  considerations.  And 
there  are  very  few  of  the  sexual  school  who  do  not  claim  to  be  writers  of 
practical  purpose.  Their  avowed  aim  is  to  benefit  mankind,  to  reform 
society.  The  plea  will  not  avail  them. 

It  would  be  a  bootless  task  to  dispute  as  to  the  functions  and  scope  of 
art.  It  is  very  well  for  Goethe  and  his  repeaters  to  say  that  we  must 
consider  and  estimate  art  as  art;  that  we  must  forget  our  passions,  dis 
embody  ourselves.  To  do  this  is  impossible.  To  expect  it,  or  even  to 
ask  it,  of  the  great  mass  of  men  and  women  is  absurd.  The  realist  in 
fiction  writes  realistic  books,  but  he  has  or  pretends  to  have  the  most 
unreal  estimate  of  men  and  women.  He  totally  disregards  realism  in 


iy2  UNCHASTITY  IN   FICTION 

effect.  He  writes  of  everything  low  and  degraded  in  human  nature, 
and  demands  that  the  poor  creatures  whom  he  so  realistically  hows  to 
be  slaves  of  passion,  shall  treat  his  book  of  passion  as  a  work  of  pure  art. 
Creatures  of  passion,  they  must  read  his  book  of  passion  without  pas 
sion.  He  is  a  very  unreal  realist  who  does  not  know  human  nature 
better.  Writing  freely  of  sexual  relations,  of  intrigue,  amour,  seduction,  is 
called  "candor."  Let  us  be  candid  all  around.  Books  dealing  with 
this  subject  sell,  because  the  subject  is  much  in  the  minds  of  men  and 
women.  The  novelist  knows  that,  among  men  especially,  such  books 
are  eagerly  sought  after  and  read.  If  he  will  show  as  much  candor  about 
his  books  as  in  them  he  will  admit  that  he  knows  that  the  purpose  with 
which  most  men  read  them  is  prurient. 

It  is  also  submitted  with  proper  diffidence  that  the  novel  writers  over 
estimate  the  importance  of  their  calling.  The  novel  as  it  now  exists  is  a 
purely  modern  invention.  Mankind  has  demonstrated  its  ability  to 
exist  for  even  a  long  period  without  the  novel.  Just  now  the  civilized 
world  is  much  given  to  reading  fiction,  but  that  does  not  prove  it  to  be  a 
necessity.  There  is  a  craze  for  writing  as  well  as  reading  it.  The  print 
ing  presses  of  all  languages  are  discharging  day  by  day  floods  of  fiction. 
A  little  is  good,  more  of  it  indifferent,  most  of  it  worthless.  Some  writers 
have  produced  their  fifty  books  of  three  volumes.  Is  it  any  wonder  that 
these  clamor  for  "candor"?  Naturally  a  strong  seasoning  is  required 
to  make  one's  fifty-first  book  palatable  to  an  overfed  public.  The  over 
production  is  appalling,  and  the  quality  as  a  rule  is  anything  but  admi 
rable.  The  old  masters  are  dead,  and  their  successors  in  the  craft  do 
not  seem  to  be  new  masters.  Hence  another  reason  for  demanding  the 
right  to  employ  "candor." 

Suppose  that,  by  some  inconceivable  and  tremendous  dispensation 
the  production  of  fiction  should  be  summarily  suspended,  would  man 
kind  suffer  materially?  Undoubtedly  many  flourishing  publishing 
houses  would  be  reduced  to  extremities,  and  a  multitude  of  authors 
thrown  out  of  employment;  but  would  the  world's  material,  intellectual 
or  moral  progress  be  seriously  retarded?  There  are  eminent  men  and 
women,  even  in  this  day  of  superabundant  fiction,  who  have  never  read 
a  novel.  The  novel  is  a  luxury,  not  a  necessity.  The  success  of  novel 
writers  is  not  a  matter  of  serious  concern,  except  to  themselves.  They 
seem,  however,  to  regard  their  work  as  of  primary  importance,  and  to 
assume  that  it  is  their  business  to  regulate  the  affairs  of  the  universe. 


UNCHASTITY  IN  FICTION  1/3 

And  yet  how  many  of  the  novels  that  have  been  printed  in  the  last  ten 
years  will  be  read  twenty-five  years  hence?  No  doubt  they  can  be 
counted  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand. 

The  prevalence  of  novel  reading  is  not  a  reason  for  relaxing  the 
rules  which  a  wise,  conservative  public  opinion  has  prescribed,  but, 
upon  the  contrary,  is  a  reason  for  the  rigid  enforcement  of  those  rules. 
No  doubt  there  are  novelists  who  demand  "candor"  solely  for  art's 
sake;  but  the  world,  knowing  that  even  novelists  are  not  devoid  of  human 
nature,  will  persist  in  believing  that  the  writers  are  looking  beyond  "can 
dor"  to  profits.  This  opinion  derives  strength  from  the  fact  that  the 
loudest  and  most  persistent  advocates  of  "candor"  are  mainly  in  the 
rear  ranks. 


THOMAS  CARLYLE. 

AM  glad  of  the  opportunity  to  proclaim  the  greatness  of  a  man 
of  our  own  race  who  wrote  in  our  own  language  and  had,  in 
the  main,  our  own  ideas  of  life,  of  conduct  and  of  religion. 
Never  was  there  a  more  striking  illustration  of  the  attraction 
of  novelty  for  the  human  mind  than  is  afforded  by  the  tendencies  of 
thought  and  of  literature  in  the  English  speaking  countries,  and  especially 
in  America,  in  the  last  fifty  years.  Our  writers,  our  philosophers  and 
even  our  language  have  been,  in  a  measure,  discredited.  Germany  has 
been  educating  our  young  men,  and  they  come  back  to  us  strongly  in 
clined  to  believe  that  Shakespeare  was  not  quite  so  great  a  man  as 
Goethe,  that  Cambridge  and  Oxford  are  provincial  schools,  that  a 
broad  scholarship  is  discreditable,  and  a  narrow  pedantic  specialism 
the  only  thing  worth  having. 

Even  our  language,  the  best  the  world  has  ever  known,  is  unsatisfac 
tory  to  the  new  scholarship.  One  of  the  finest  and  dearest  things  in 
the  language  to  me  is  the  good  old  flat  a.  We  are  conceding  everything, 
however,  to  the  continental  languages  and  are  gradually  suppressing 
this  fine  honest  old  English  a.  Shakespeare  lived  at  Stratford  on  Ahvan 
according  to  some,  and  on  Avoon  according  to  others.  I  clapped  my 
hands  with  delight  the  other  day  when  I  heard  a  man,  born  on  that  his 
toric  stream,  call  it  ^-von.  We  are  taking  our  scepticism  from  the  con 
tinent  in  innocent  unconsciousness  that  the  continent  got  it  from  Hobbes 
and  Bolingbroke  and  their  contemporaries  and  disciples.  We  get  our 
science  from  Germany  and  France  along  with  our  philosophy  with  per 
fect  indifference  to  the  fact  that  Francis  Bacon,  Isaac  Newton,  Charles 
Darwin  and  Herbert  Spencer  are  men,  neither  one  of  whom  has  had 
his  equal  in  his  own  department  in  any  other  race  of  men  since  the  days 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  In  his  own  branch  of  science  Newton  has  never 
been  equalled.  Bacon  made  modern  science.  Darwin  has  influenced 
the  thought  of  the  last  seventy-five  years  more  than  all  other  men  com 
bined;  and  Herbert  Spencer,  in  comprehensiveness  of  intellect  and  power 
of  analysis  is  superior  to  any  five  men,  living  in  France  or  Germany  today, 
combined.  The  English  speaking  race  has  the  finest  and  best  litera 
ture  in  the  world,  the  highest  morality,  and  the  most  advanced  and  ex 
cellent  political  institutions;  and  yet  we  are  educating  our  young  men 

(175) 


i;6  THOMAS   CARLYLE 

elsewhere.  We  who  are  here,  or  some  of  us,  have  lived  at  the  same  time 
with  Darwin,  Tyndall,  Huxley;  and  Spencer  still  lives,  but  we  go  to  Ger 
many  and  France  to  be  taught  science  and  philosophy.  We  have  been 
contemporaries  of  Freeman,  Green,  Grote,  Motley,  Lecky,  Bancroft; 
yet  we  are  sure  that  Germany  alone  can  produce  historians.  We  have 
been  contemporaries  of  Dickens,  Thackeray,  George  Eliot  and  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne;  but  we  proclaim  Balzac  and  Flaubert  and  Tolstoi  the  great 
novelists.  In  our  own  time  we  have  had  Tennyson,  Swinburne,  the 
Brownings,  Longfellow,  and  a  little  earlier,  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge; 
but  we  are  profoundly  dissatisfied  with  English  poetry,  and  have  such 
a  violent  attack  of  Balzac  that  we  are  about,  or  some  of  us  are  about,  to 
proclaim  a  revolt  against  Shakespeare,  to  snatch  from  his  weakening  grasp 
the  sceptre  of  literary  kingship  in  order  to  bestow  it  upon  the  author 
of  the  "Droll  Stories." 

I  am  conscious  that  in  some  respects  I  exaggerate  somewhat,  but 
this  last  is  true.  The  frenzied  disciples  of  the  French  novelists  are  de 
termined  that  if  they  cannot  unseat  Shakespeare,  they  will  at  least  estab 
lish  a  duumvirate  and  seat  Balzac,  a  sort  of  Mahdi  in  literature,  along 
side  the  author  of  Hamlet  and  Macbeth.  This  I  take  leave  to  regard 
as  the  finest  piece  of  humor  in  the  history  of  literature  or  of  mankind. 
It  is  proper  to  say  that  no  one  can  dispute  the  propriety  and  the  certain 
benefits  of  studying  the  institutions  and  acquiring  the  learning  of  other 
nations.  It  is  well  enough  to  send  our  young  men  to  Germany  and  to 
France,  but  it  is  unfortunate  to  have  them  become  Germans  or  French 
men.  We  would  have  them  Americans  with  the  learning  of  Germany 
and  of  France,  broad  and  liberal  in  scholarship,  catholic  in  sentiment, 
but  not  Germans  or  Frenchmen  living  in  America.  The  germanizing 
and  gallicising  are  perhaps  natural  and  unavoidable  results,  which  after 
all  may  be  endured  with  serenity  as  only  temporary.  I  have  known 
young  men  who,  having  read  Emerson,  were  wholly  Emersonian  in 
thought  and  style  of  speech  for  a  long  time.  Every  young  reader  of 
English  poetry  has  an  attack  of  Byronism  at  about  the  age  of  sixteen, 
but  eventually  most  of  them  recover. 

Thomas  Carlyle  was  a  man  more  or  less  learned  in  the  wisdom  of 
many  peoples,  especially  of  the  Germans,  but  he  Jived  and  died,  and 
spoke  and  wrote  as  a  Scotchman,  that  is  to  say  as  an  Englishman  from 
the  north  of  the  island.  I  have  heard  him  called  many  things,  but  nothing 
that  exactly  meets  my  conception  of  him.  He  is  called  a  seer,  a  preacher, 


THOMAS   CARLYLE  177 

a  poet,  a  scold,  a  fanatic,  the  arch-enemy  of  sham,  the  apostle  of  the 
genuine.  To  me  he  is  the  Covenanter  in  literature,  a  characterization 
which  may  legitimately  include  many  of  the  epithets  just  mentioned. 
The  most  conspicuous  trait  of  his  character  was  a  strenuous  earnestness. 
He  preached  in  books  as  that  other  Scotchman,  John  Knox,  the  ancestor 
of  his  wife  Jane  Welch  Carlyle,  preached  from  the  pulpit.  He  was  as 
earnest,  and  sometimes  almost  as  eloquent  as  Isaiah,  sometimes  as  de 
spondent  as  Jeremiah,  sometimes  as  awful  in  prophecy  and  judgment 
as  Elijah.  In  a  certain  true  sense  he  belonged  to  the  same  intellectual 
and  moral  order  with  the  prophets  of  Israel.  He  loved  the  literature 
of  Germany,  ancient  and  modern,  but  he  remained  a  Covenanter.  He 
had  a  great  deal  to  say  of  the  Nibelungenlied  kind,  and  read  and  translated 
Goethe,  and  would  dispute  the  thought  of  the  Germans;  but  he  re 
mained  an  unordained  and  it  may  be  an  unorthodox  preacher  of  the 
covenant.  I  do  not  refer  to  his  theological  opinions,  but  to  his  style  of 
thought  and  of  speech  and  his  moral  quality.  Probably  no  Englishman 
ever  read  or  admired  Goethe  more,  but  he  was  not  an  intellectual  cha 
meleon  to  take  his  color  from  whatever  he  touched. 

I  do  not  attempt  a  history  of  his  life,  but  only  a  superficial  general 
description  of  him  as  a  writer  and  as  a  thinker.  I  have  referred 
to  his  strenuous  earnestness.  Along  with  this  went  a  sincere  love 
of  the  truth,  and  of  goodness.  He  hated  and  incessantly  denounced 
sham,  pretense,  falsehood.  This  was  the  quality  of  his  first  writings 
and  of  his  last.  As  he  grew  older  and  as  his  uncompromising  judg 
ments  were  more  frequently  offended,  he  became  more  strenuous  until 
at  last  his  tone  was  indisputably  strident,  and  he  did  much  to  justify 
those  who  called  him  a  scold.  Lowell  was  one  of  his  contemporaries 
who  resented  this  and  intimated  very  plainly  that  the  world  was  not  to  be 
scolded  into  virtue  or  propriety,  and  that  the  assumption  of  a  monopoly 
of  virtue  was  not  becoming.  But,  whatever  was  said,  Carlyle  went  on 
preaching,  denouncing  humbug,  and  lauding  virtue  while  he  lamented 
the  paucity  of  it.  Seeing  how  weak  most  men  were,  he  conceived  a 
profound  distrust  and  something  like  contempt  for  the  common  herd, 
and  came  to  believe  that  they  needed  always  a  strong  hand  to  control 
them,  so  that  his  tone  became  strongly  undemocratic.  He  naturally 
came  also  to  admire  and  to  sing  the  praises  of  strong  men.  His  longest 
works  were  lives  of  Cromwell  and  of  Frederick  the  Great.  Men  of 
force,  iron  men,  as  good  representatives  of  absolutism  as  modern  his- 
12 


178  THOMAS   CARLYLE 

tory  affords.  Afterwards  he  wrote  a  book  about  men  who  had  led  and 
ruled  other  men,  that  is  to  say  heroes.  Everywhere  he  sings  sincerity, 
always  denounces  sham.  He  is  the  apostle  of  belief,  though  not  of  any 
creed,  and  the  unrelenting,  invariable  foe  of  unbelief.  He  says:  "The 
merit  of  originality  is  not  novelty,  it  is  sincerity.  The  believing  man  is 
the  original  man.  .  .  .  Every  son  of  Adam  can  become  a  sincere 
man,  an  original  man  in  this  sense;  no  mortal  is  doomed  to  be  an  insincere 
man;  whole  ages,  what  we  call  ages  of  faith,  are  original.  .  .  .  These 
are  the  great  and  fruitful  ages;  every  worker  in  all  spheres  is  a  worker 
not  on  semblance  but  on  substance;  every  work  issues  in  a  result;  the 
general  sum  of  such  work  is  great;  for  all  of  it  is  genuine,  tends  toward 
one  goal;  all  of  it  is  additive,  none  of  it  subtractive.  There  is  true  union, 
true  kingship,  loyalty,  all  true  and  blessed  things,  so  far  as  the  poor  earth 
can  produce  blessedness  for  men."  Again:  "Hollow  formalism,  gross 
Benthamism,  and  other  unheroic,  atheistic  insincerity,  is  visibly,  even 
rapidly  declining.  ...  I  prophesy  the  world  will  once  more  be 
come  sincere;  a  believing  world;  with  many  heroes  in  it;  a  heroic  world. 
It  will  then  be  a  victorious  world;  never  till  then." 

I  might  quote  much  more,  but  this  phase  of  Carlyle's  character  is 
the  best  known  perhaps  of  all.  To  the  sentiments  which  I  have  just 
quoted,  I  wish  to  add  my  humble  amen,  and  amen.  I  believe  in  men 
who  believe,  in  St.  Paul,  in  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  in  Chrysostom,  in  John 
Knox,  in  Martin  Luther,  in  John  Calvin,  in  John  Wesley,  in  all  the  be 
lieving  men  and  all  the  martyrs  of  all  ages.  The  men  who  believe  are 
the  men  who  do  things,  who  have  made  all  that  we  have  that  is  worth 
having.  Unbelief,  no  doubt,  has  its  uses;  but  they  are  inferior.  The 
sceptic  is  always  a  second  man,  the  believer  is  first.  With  Carlyle  I  can 
even  admire  the  arch  fanatic  Mohammed.  We  may  call  him  an  ignorant 
camel-driver,  a  furious  and  unreasoning,  superstitious  fanatic;  but  by 
virtue  of  his  sincerity  and  belief,  however  mistaken,  repulsive  in  many 
aspects  his  teachings  are,  he  has  influenced  the  minds  of  men  and  the 
course  of  history  more  than  all  the  sceptics  in  the  world  combined.  Be 
lief  made  the  world  and  rules  it. 

Next  in  this  brief  sketch  I  remark  that  Carlyle  was  an  idealist,  the 
prince  of  idealists.  The  transcendentalist  movement  in  America  may 
be  traced  first  to  Carlyle  and  Coleridge,  and  thence  backward  through 
all  the  immortals  who  have  bowed  at  the  altars  of  the  ideal  from  the  days 
of  Socrates  and  Plato  downward.  The  finest  product  of  transcendent- 


THOMAS   CARLYLE  179 

alism  was  Emerson;  and  all  who  know  anything  of  Emerson,  know 
Carlyle's  influence  on  him.  Even  Thoreau,  who  objected  to  that  other 
idealist,  Ruskin,  because  his  books  contained  too  much  about  art  for 
himself  and  the  Hottentots,  admired  and  praised  Carlyle. 

All  prophets,  all  seers,  all  poets,  are  idealists.  The  glorious  com 
pany  of  the  apostles  were  idealists;  the  goodly  fellowship*of  the  proph 
ets  were  idealists;  the  noble  army  of  martyrs  were  idealists;  Homer, 
Dante,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  were  idealists;  Socrates,  Plato,  Ber 
nard,  Kant,  Coleridge,  Carlyle,  and  a  multitude  more,  embracing  the 
choicest  spirits  of  the  earth,  were  idealists;  and  I  believe  it  to  be  true  that 
in  physical  science  even  the  divided  quality  of  idealism  has  been  of  more 
service  and  of  more  benefit  than  the  mere  gift  of  prying  and  plodding. 

I  have  called  Carlyle  a  poet.  It  ought  not  to  be  difficult  to  support 
this  proposition  in  an  age  that  is  willing  to  call  Whitman  a  poet,  because 
it  does  not  admit  of  denial  that  Carlyle  has  more  imagination,  more  elo 
quence,  as  much  rhyme,  and  more  reason  than  Whitman.  The  prime 
quality  of  the  poet  is  imagination.  I  once  read  in  a  local  paper  an  ac 
count  of  a  dreadful  murder  in  this  city,  in  which  the  writer,  after  giving 
sundry  other  striking  details  in  a  very  commercial  way,  said  finally: 
"There  was  about  a  bucketful  of  blood  on  the  floor."  The  man  who 
wrote  that  may  not  have  been  untruthful,  but  he  was  devoid  of  poetry. 
Recall  in  contrast  to  this  frightful  realism  something  of  Carlyle's  descrip 
tions  of  the  French  Revolution.  It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  reporter's  bucket 
ful  of  blood  to  the  lurid  pictures  that  Carlyle  paints,  and  paints  truly  in 
his  French  Revolution,  of  many  blood-lettings.  The  poetic  quality 
of  his  mind  is  manifest  in  everything  that  he  wrote.  He  was  a  dramatic 
poet,  and  it  has  been  said  truly,  I  think,  that  for  sublimity  and  awful- 
ness  of  description,  one  must  go  to  Shakespeare  to  find  Carlyle's  superior 
among  English  writers.  Carlyle  said  of  the  French  Revolution  that 
it  was:  "A  truth  clad  in  hell-fire."  And  he  has  depicted  it  in  appro 
priate  colors  and  undiminished  fervor.  There  is  nothing  like  this  book 
in  our  language.  The  last  generation,  except  John  Ruskin,  scoffed  at 
Turner's  pictures  on  account  of  their  intense  and  lurid  coloring;  but 
they  do  not  approach  Carlyle's  pictures  of  the  Revolution.  All  the  fury, 
all  the  horror  of  that  frightful  orgy  was  apprehended  by  Carlyle's  vivid 
imagination  and  put  upon  paper  by  his  unequalled  pen.  There  are 
passages  in  the  book  that  stir  the  blood  and  thrill  the  nerves,  and 
appall  the  imagination  hardly  less  than  the  darker  scenes  of  Macbeth. 


l8o  THOMAS   CARLYLE 

Of  course  it  was  only  in  quality  of  mind  and  imagination  that  Carlyle 
was  a  poet;  he  had  none  of  the  poet's  gift  of  song.  He  had  less  capacity 
for  rhyme  and  rhythm  than  Browning,  although  he  was  at  times  equally 
incomprehensible.  He  was  not  even  superior  to  Whitman  in  versifi 
cation. 

As  a  prose  writer  Carlyle  was  one  of  the  best  and  one  of  the  worst 
in  the  language.  It  is  to  be  said  first  that  his  mastery  of  the  language 
is  unequalled,  if  we  except  Shakespeare,  and  it  is  not  without  hesitancy 
that  one  makes  the  exception.  This  much  is  certain,  that  his  vocabulary 
was  from  ten  to  twenty  times  as  large  as  Shakespeare's,  and  was  by  reason 
of  his  inexhaustible  capacity  to  make  words,  capable  of  still  farther  and 
indefinite  extension.  I  think  Shakespeare  had  about  six  thousand  words. 
.  I  am  sure  Carlyle  had  at  least  sixty  thousand.  I  have  gone 
from  him,  oftener  than  from  all  other  English  writers  combined,  to  the 
dictionary,  and  frequently  have  returned  unenlightened.  Probably 
he  learned  from  his  German  studies  how  to  make  words  at  will. 

In  characterizing  his  style  I  have  not  endeavored  to  be  paradoxical, 
but  to  speak  sober  truth.  There  are  passages  in  his  writings,  that  for 
eloquence,  beauty  and  sublimity  are  not  surpassed  anywhere.  There 
are  also  passages  that  are  as  rough  as  a  corduroy  road,  and  as  unmelodi- 
ous  as  a  Scotch  bag-pipe  out  of  tune,  if  a  bag-pipe  ever  gets  out  of  tune. 
There  are  sentences  that  flow  for  half  a  page  without  a  flaw,  throbbing 
with  eloquence,  inspiring  in  their  beauty,  perfect  periods.  There  are 
others  that  consist  of  one  word  with  an  exclamation  point,  or  two  words 
or  three,  or  ten,  that  run  the  gamut  of  shrillness,  discord  and  extrava 
gance.  There  are  sentences  of  a  dozen  words  with  four  or  six  semi 
colons,  half  a  dozen  ordinary  substantives  or  adjectives  furiously  capi 
talized  or  italicised,  and  ending  with  a  smash  against  two,  or  it  may  be 
more,  exclamation  marks.  Some  of  his  periods  flow  like  a  meadow  brook 
in  summer.  Some  are  like  a  wild  train  whose  rattling,  roaring,  unordered 
headlong  career,  ends  in  a  collision,  splintered  wood,  exploded  boilers, 
blinding  steam,  deafening  noise,  terror,  confusion,  chaos.  On  some 
you  ride  pleasantly  to  the  end,  others  jolt  you  off"  midway.  Some  are 
Arabian  steeds  whose  flight  is  as  smooth  as  a  bird's,  others  are  Texas 
buck- jumpers  that  unseat  the  most  skilful  or  tenacious  rider. 

The  alternations  of  style,  or  better,  the  multifariousness  of  styles,  is 
perhaps  most  conspicuous  in  the  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship.  The  French 
Revolution  has  much  of  it,  but  there  the  treatment  as  well  as  the  sub- 


THOMAS   CARLYLE  l8l 

ject  usually  is  epic.  Everywhere  there  is  more  or  less  of  this  peculiarity, 
but  the  staccato  element  conspicuous  first  in  Sartor  Resartus  became 
more  prominent  as  he  grew  older.  One  of  his  very  best  essays  is  that 
on  Burns;  and  upon  the  whole  I  recall  none  of  his  writings  which  sur 
pass  this  in  sustained  moderation,  elegance,  and  sanity  of  style,  unless 
it  be  the  essay  on  Voltaire.  This  last  is  my  own  favorite,  as  literature, 
among  all  his  writings.  The  first  three  or  four  pages  of  it  are  equal  to 
the  best  English  prose. 

I  do  not  suppose  that  any  one  really  reads  the  Cromwell  or  the  Fred 
erick;  I  have  tried  both  unsuccessfully.  For  the  French  Revolution 
I  have  a  genuine  enthusiasm  of  theory.  The  opening  books  I  should 
know  by  heart,  but  my  familiarity  diminishes  continually  from  that 
point.  I  am  tempted  almost  to  wish  that  some  day  we  may  have  a  trans 
lation  of  it  that  will  present  its  merits  to  the  English  speaking  world 
with  some  degree  of  adequacy.  It  is  a  book  to  be  admired  and  to  be 
praised,  but  hardly  one  to  be  read.  It  is  the  world's  great  prose  epic. 
It  belongs  with  Paradise  Lost,  and  the  Inferno.  Sartor  Resartus,  one 
reads,  at  least  I  do,  as  one  reads  Plato's  Republic,  or  one  of  George  Mere 
dith's  novels,  with  strainings  and  groanings,  and  incessant  lashings  of 
one's  self  to  painful  endeavor.  Never  was  book  so  full  of  quips  and 
cranks.  It  is  compared  to  Stern's  best  humor,  and  likened  to  Cervante's 
immortal  book.  It  no  doubt  has  wit,  wisdom,  sarcasm,  learning,  philos 
ophy,  and  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  excellence,  but  frankly  I  do  not 
enjoy  it,  nor  get  special  profit  from  it.  I  know  Carlyle  best  in  his  essays, 
which  I  have  read  diligently,  admiringly  and  with  much  profit.  I  men 
tion  last  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,  one  of  the  best  books  of  modern 
times.  It  is  one  of  the  few  books  of  its  class  that  I  have  read  twice  and 
hope  soon  to  read  again.  It  is  a  great  and  inspiring  book,  full  of  truth 
and  noble  sentiments.  It  has  all  of  the  Carlyle  peculiarities,  but  if  it  is 
at  times  strained  and  declamatory,  shrill  and  harsh,  it  is  essentially  liberal, 
sane  and  uplifting.  It  is  a  book  to  be  praised,  to  be  admired  and  to  be 
read  many  times. 

I  have  said  frankly  that  I  do  not  enjoy  Sartor  Resartus,  and  I  add 
that  while  I  cannot  retract  the  statement,  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  indiffer 
ent  to  the  lofty  eloquence,  the  wisdom  and  the  fine  satire  of  many  of  its 
passages.  It  is  intended  to  be  a  description  of  the  civilization  of  the 
time,  and  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  an  inspired  dyspeptic,  as  Carlyle 
was,  could  find  many  objects  of  satire.  It  is  interesting  to  note  also 


l82  THOMAS   CARLYLE 

of  this  book  that  it  is  the  first  of  his  writings  in  which  Carlyle  put  aside 
all  considerations  of  grammar  and  rhetoric,  and  cast  his  sentences  in 
moulds  of  his  own  conceiving.  From  the  very  beginning  he  had  been 
given  to  ejaculation  and  irregularity;  but  in  this  book,  written,  I  think, 
in  1833,  when  he  was  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  he  adopted  the  style  or 
want  of  style  for  which  he  was  ever  after  distinguished,  and  which  I 
account  a  distinct  and  inexcusable  fault,  and  as  a  material  and  most 
unfortunate  detraction  of  value  in  his  works.  I  know  of  no  term  too 
strong  to  be  used  in  condemnation  of  this  fault,  which  every  reader  of 
his  better  written  works  knows  to  have  been  wilful,  or  at  least  curable. 
But  whatever  may  be  said  of  him,  it  remains  true  that  for  nearly  half 
a  century  he  was  the  most  conspicuous  of  the  English  prose  writers  of 
serious  purpose,  that  he  was  an  honest  man,  and  that  being  a  very  wizard 
of  words  he  gave  himself  heart  and  soul  to  battling  for  the  right  as  he 
saw  it.  The  natural  intensity  of  his  nature  was  increased  to  morbidity 
by  physical  infirmities  and  sufferings,  but  morally  he  was  never  per 
verted.  He  was  not  always  right,  but  all  his  impulses  and  purposes 
were  right.  I  admire  and  love  him  for  his  earnestness,  his  honesty, 
his  fearless  devotion  to  conviction. 

Easy  and  satisfied  men  do  nothing  in  the  world.  The  easy  and  satis 
fied  ages  are  barren  ages.  It  is  the  strenuous  men  and  the  strenuous 
ages  that  make  for  humanity  and  righteousness.  Carlyle  believed,  and 
therein  was  right,  that  the  aims  of  literature  and  of  all  things  else  should 
be  moral.  We  have  had  the  brute  force  of  ancient  conquerors,  the  art 
and  literature  of  Greece,  the  law  of  Rome,  the  philosophy  of  India,  but 
the  salvation  of  men  rests  upon  the  moral  teachings  of  a  little  and  obscure 
nation  which  declares  that  the  chief  end,  the  chief  duty  of  men,  is  to  be 
righteous,  that  happiness  and  material  prosperity  alike  depend  on  right 
eousness. 

The  prophet  is  not  necessarily  or  primarily  one  who  foretells,  but 
rather  one  who  declares  truth,  a  preacher  of  righteousness.  In  this 
true  sense  Carlyle  was  a  prophet.  We  may  not  agree  with  much  that 
he  wrote,  he  may  not  commend  himself  to  the  adherents  of  any  creed; 
but  he  loved  and  proclaimed  the  eternal  truths  upon  which  all  true  creeds 
are  based,  and  which  they  are  intended  to  declare.  He  was  the  friend  of 
truth  and  of  righteousness,  and  "he  never  feared  the  face  of  any  man." 


THE  SOUTH  IS  AMERICAN.* 

GREAT  deal  has  been  said  and  written  of  the  need  for  a  history 
of  the  South;  and  the  admirers  of  the  late  Henry  Grady  were 
fond  of  predicting  that  to  his  brilliant  genius  we  should  be 
come  indebted  for  a  history,  which  would  fully  "vindicate  the 
South/' 

I  beg  to  say  that  we  do  not  need  nor  desire  vindication.  We  want 
the  truth,  vindication  or  no  vindication.  What  we  need  is  facts — facts 
correctly  stated  individually  and  in  the  aggregate — the  unvarnished  truth 
upon  the  facts.  We  may  believe  that  this  will  be  vindication  enough, 
but  let  us  demand  truth,  not  vindication.  It  is  hardly  to  be  disputed 
that  Mr.  Grady  would  not  have  written  a  satisfactory  history.  A  genius 
so  brilliant  as  his  could  not  have  sustained  the  drudgery  of  historical 
examination  and  arrangement.  Moreover  the  time  has  not  come.  No 
generation  of  men  has  true  vision  of  the  things  done  in  its  own  time, 
and  most  men  inherit  the  partisanship  and  prejudices  of  their  fathers; 
so  that  generations  must  pass  before  the  historical  standpoint  is  reached. 
But  "truth  is  mighty  and  will  in  time  prevail."  History  is  the  truth. 
The  definition  is  severe  and  no  history  ever  written  meets  it  absolutely. 
No  historian  ever  saw  or  wrote  the  whole  truth  of  any  man  or  any  event, 
and  yet  the  truth  never  remains  hid.  The  only  criterion  of  truth  after  all 
is  the  general  opinion  of  intelligent  mankind,  and  its  judgments  ulti 
mately  are  right.  We  should  not  try  to  hide  the  truth,  for  that  is  futile 
and  dishonest;  we  should  not  fear  it,  for  that  is  futile  and  cowardly.  The 
time  for  writing  the  history  of  the  Southern  States,  especially  their  late 
history,  has  not  come,  but  it  is  always  time  to  gather  the  material  and  pro 
vide  for  its  preservation.  It  has  been  my  desire  to  contribute  somewhat  to 
this  humble  but  indispensable  preliminary  work,  but  only  as  to  colonial  his 
tory.  It  is  one  of  the  hopeful  signs  of  the  time,  that  throughout  the  South 
there  is  a  growing  interest  in  historical  research.  With  very  few  excep 
tions  the  State  has  employed  competent  men,  who  have  prepared  or 
collected,  and  published  valuable  historical  papers.  Tennessee  enjoys 
the  distinction  of  being  one  of  the  number  which  have  not. 

The  making  of  books  on  Southern  colonial  history  is  not  confined 
to  the  South.  Mr.  Henry  Cabot  Lodge,  an  accomplished  gentleman 
and  distinguished  statesman,  whose  literary  ambitions,  it  may  be  sus- 

*  Published  in  The  Arena,  October,  1893.  (  183 ) 


184  THE   SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

pected,  are  somewhat  in  excess  of  his  abilities,  has  published  a  stout 
volume  upon  the  history  of  the  English  Colonies  of  North  America.  I 
mention  him  as  a  type.  I  have  had  occasion  to  examine  his  book,  and 
especially  the  chapter  on  Virginia,  and  I  may  say  frankly,  that  while 
he  has  collected  a  considerable  number  of  facts  of  early  Virginia  history, 
he  does  not  seem  to  have  digested  them,  nor  to  have  caught  their  true 
significance.  He  does  not  appear  to  have  penetrated  below  the  sur 
face,  nor  to  have  any  real  knowledge  of  the  life  and  civilization  of  Vir 
ginia;  and  I  venture  with  some  hesitancy  the  further  suggestion  that 
he  has  not  manifested  the  true  historical  spirit,  but  rather  the  spirit  and 
purpose  of  vigorous  special  pleading.  There  are  few  things  less  favor 
able  to  the  usefulness  or  trustworthiness  of  historical  compositions  than 
starting  with  preconceived  opinions  and  proceeding  with  inadequate  knowl 
edge.  This  scholarly  gentleman  and  politician,  who  in  all  probability  is 
entirely  free  from  any  unfair  purpose,  affords  a  good  illustration  of  the 
profound  truth  of  Carlyle's  utterance  that  no.  character  is  ever  rightly 
understood  until  we  are  in  sympathy  with  it;  a  wise  saying,  obviously 
no  less  true  of  societies  than  of  individuals.  To  accuse  Mr.  Lodge  of 
sympathy  with  the  early  Virginians  would  be  wholly  unjustifiable.  Upon 
the  other  hand  many  Southern  writers,  some  of  them  bent  on  vindication, 
have  gone  to  the  other  extreme  (for  which  I  for  one  readily  forgive  them.) 
Whereas  Mr.  Lodge  writes  without  sympathy,  they  write  with  almost  nothing 
but  sympathy.  Mr.  Lodge  paints  Old  Virginia  as  the  dreary  and  sordid 
abode  of  indolence,  ignorance,  gambling,  horse-racing,  wine-bibbing  and 
cock-fighting.  The  Southern  writers,  upon  the  other  hand,  wholly  idealize  it. 
The  coarse,  horsey,  cock-fighting,  deep  drinking  planters,  who  fill  Mr. 
Lodge's  chapter  on  Virginia,  are  not  in  their  pages,  but  instead  only  the  Bev- 
erlys,  the  Birds,  the  Tuckers.  No  coarseness,  no  ordinary  mortals,  but  only 
fine  ladies,  fine  gentlemen,  fine  birds,  fine  feathers.  Gallants  in  flowing 
wigs,  and  spreading  ruffles,  stately  dames,  and  dainty  damosels  rustling 
in  silk,  bearing  bravely  immeasurable  expanses  of  brocade  over  awful 
hoops,  go  their  stately  ways  and  dance  graceful  minuets. 

Both  pictures  are  in  a  measure  true  to  life,  but  even  together  they 
hardly  tell  the  whole  truth.  Writers  of  both  classes  may  profitably  con 
sider  the  unheeded  advice  to  a  very  aspiring  young  gentleman  of  mythol 
ogy,  "Medio  tutissimus  ibis." 

The  founders  of  the  Southern  Colonies  were  average  men  and  women 
according  to  the  standards  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries. 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  185 

They  had  their  full  share  of  the  vices  and  their  full  share  of  the  virtues 
of  their  times.  In  the  main  they  were  Englishmen,  Irishmen,  Scotch 
men,  comparing  not  unfavorably  with  their  compatriots.  The  oldest  and 
most  important  of  the  colonies,  of  course,  was  Virginia,  and  it  becomes 
highly  important  to  know  who  the  Virginians  were  in  the  beginning. 

The  fact  first  to  be  noticed  is,  that  of  all  the  colonies  Virginia  was 
the  most  English.  In  blood  the  original  Virginians  were  perhaps  not 
more  English  than  the  Puritans.  But  the  government  which  the  Puri 
tans  set  up  in  New  England  was  a  theocracy,  a  temporary  materializa 
tion,  almost,  of  the  hopes  and  theories  of  the  Puritans  in  Old  England, 
and  of  the  Covenanters  in  Scotland.  In  Virginia  the  institutions  in  form, 
as  well  as  the  people,  continued  to  be  English.  Politically,  Virginia  was 
England,  modified  by  new  and  disadvantageous  conditions. 

The  Puritan  was  from  the  beginning  a  malcontent,  a  rebel.  Not  so 
much,  however,  for  political  as  for  religious  reasons.  Virginia,  upon 
the  contrary,  was,  until  Bacon's  rebellion,  the  most  loyal,  as  she  was 
the  most  favored  colony;  and  during  the  century  succeeding  that  rebellion, 
she  was  continuously  upon  the  most  amicable  terms  with  the  home  coun 
try  and  government.  Indeed,  it  is  familiar  history  that  because  Virginia, 
during  the  hundred  years  preceding  the  War  of  Independence,  did  enjoy 
unbroken  peace  and  quiet,  she  was  accused  of  indifference  to  the  popular 
cause.  Mr.  Cabot  Lodge  and  one  other  author  whom  I  have  consulted 
make  precisely  this  use  of  the  facts. 

The  Puritan  repudiated  utterly,  as  a  thing  abominable,  the  Church 
of  England;  the  Virginian  established  the  Church  and  persecuted  dis 
senters;  the  Puritan  embraced  the  commonwealth  and  banished  the 
royal  Governor;  the  Virginian  was  steadfastly  loyal  to  the  Stuarts,  invited 
the  King  to  plant  his  scepter  anew  in  the  Virgin  soil  of  his  loyal  colony, 
and  refused  to  recognize  the  commonwealth  until  Cromwell's  war-ships 
trained  their  cannon  upon  his  capital. 

The  antithesis  might  be  indefinitely  extended.  Massachusetts  and 
Virginia,  to  the  superficial  observer,  were  essentially  unlike.  In  reality 
the  unlikeness  was  superficial,  and  beneath  it  was  a  likeness  which  was 
essential.  The  people  of  the  two  colonies  were  of  the  same  race,  and 
in  them  was  born  and  constantly  burned  the  same  love  of  liberty.  In 
temperament  they  differed,  but  in  every  other  material  respect  (if  that 
be  material),  they  were  not  only  alike,  but  the  same.  The  term  cavalier 
has  been  very  freely  and  not  very  accurately  used  in  reference  to  Vir- 


l86  THE    SOUTH   IS  AMERICAN 

ginia.  It  may  be  said  that  a  large  number  of  the  gentry  of  England  did 
come  to  Virginia,  and  that  they  were  influential  there,  just  as  their  class 
was  in  England,  and  for  the  same  reason.  But  when  the  need  came 
the  Virginia  aristocrats  were  as  staunch  patriots  as  the  Massachusetts 
democrats.  We  remember  that  it  was  not  one  order,  but  all  orders  of 
Englishmen  that  extorted  the  great  charter  from  King  John.  The  love 
of  liberty  has  never  been  confined  to  the  Commons.  No  name  in  Eng 
lish  history  is  dearer  to  the  lovers  of  liberty  than  that  of  great  Earl  Si 
mon.  And  after  all  it  is  a  fact  that  the  supply  of  plain  people  in  Vir 
ginia  was  abundant. 

Massachusetts  was  turbulent,  Virginia  placid;  and  yet  when  the  trial 
came,  Virginia  was  as  quick  as  her  Northern  sister  to  declare  for  free 
dom,  and  it  was  these  two  in  constant  harmony  of  purpose  and  action 
that  bore  the  brunt  and  the  burthen  of  the  War  of  Independence. 

When  Massachusetts  defied  England  it  was  George  Washington, 
of  Virginia,  who  said  that  he  was  ready  to  raise  and  subsist  a  regiment 
at  his  own  expense;  if  Warren  fired  the  patriot  heart  by  his  eloquence, 
so  did  Patrick  Henry;  if  Massachusetts  gave  Adams,  Hancock,  Otis, 
to  the  good  cause,  Virginia  gave  Randolph,  Jefferson,  Madison,  Mar 
shall,  Washington;  if  Massachusetts  never  faltered,  neither  did  Virginia. 
And  after  all  it  remains  true,  growing  constantly  more  certain,  that  the 
foremost  man  of  his  time,  greatest  in  will,  greatest  in  heart,  greatest  in 
mind,  was  George  Washington,  of  Virginia. 

It  has  become  somewhat  the  fashion  of  later  times  in  this  country 
to  belittle  Washington.  This  is  true  even  of  a  few  persons  of  intelli 
gence.  We  need  a  good  course  in  American  history  to  discover  how 
great  he  was,  and  especially  do  I  commend  the  histories  of  John  Fiske, 
of  New  England,  on  whose  clear  pages  Washington  appears  in  just  pro 
portions.  There  is  nothing  of  which  the  American  people  know  less 
than  their  own  history. 

Thus  it  appears  that  Virginia  bore  in  the  struggle  for  Independence 
a  part  no  less  trying,  no  less  important,  no  less  honorable  than  Massachu 
setts.  When  the  war  began  and  when  it  ended,  Virginia  was  the  most  pop 
ulous,  the  richest,  the  most  influential  of  the  colonies,  and  this  supremacy 
continued  during  the  early  years  of  the  Republic.  Gradually,  and  from 
causes  which  need  not  be  considered  here,  the  leading  Northern  States 
outgrew  her  in  population  and  in  wealth;  but  there  was  no  time  until 
the  war  between  the  States  when  Virginia  was  not  the  first  and  the  most 


THE   SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  187 

influential  Southern  State.  A  fact  of  the  greatest  importance  is  that 
the  controlling  elements  of  population  in  the  younger  Southern  States 
came  largely  from  Virginia.  I  notice  for  example  in  a  recent  publication 
that  Virginia  comes  first  in  the  list  of  States  which  have  contributed 
to  the  population  of  this  city,  and  it  is  probably  safe  to  say  that  the 
same  is  true  of  every  considerable  community  in  the  inland  Southern 
States.  Thus  the  Virginia  stock  and  the  Virginia  principles  extended 
their  dominion  over  most  of  the  Southern  States,  and  indisputably 
it  was  mainly  Virginia  and  the  Virginians  that  shaped  their  insti 
tutions  and  gave  tone  and  character  to  their  civilization.  I  do 
not  say  that  the  Old  Dominion  exclusively  controlled  in  these  mat 
ters,  for  that  would  be  palpably  untrue;  but  in  considering  the  influ 
ence  of  the  several  colonies  in  determining  the  quality  of  Southern  civili 
zation,  I  do  say  emphatically  that  the  influence  of  Virginia  was  by  far 
the  most  important.  I  feel  little  hesitancy  in  saying  that  it  was  para 
mount.  It  is  also  true  that  while  the  population  of  the  other  Southern 
Colonies  exhibited  more  heterogeneity  than  that  of  Virginia,  the  con 
trolling  element  in  all  of  them,  from  the  beginning,  was  Anglo-Saxon. 
There  was  no  contest  for  supremacy,  but  Virginia  was  dominant,  simply 
because  she  was  the  oldest,  the  richest,  and  the  most  prosperous  among 
these  communities  of  kindred  people  and  identical  institutions.  This 
conclusion  without  further  analysis,  suffices  for  my  present  purpose. 
These  may  be  treated  then  as  established  facts,  that  among  the  South 
ern  Colonies,  and  the  Southern  States,  Virginia  was  dominant;  that  Vir 
ginia  was  essentially  an  Anglo-Saxon  community;  that  Virginia  was  per 
haps  the  most  patriotic  and  thoroughly  American  of  all  the  Cojonies; 
and  that  knowing  Virginia  we  know  the  salient  and  essential  qualities 
of  the  people  of  the  early  South  and  of  their  social  and  political  life. 

At  this  point  I  offer  a  word  of  explanation.  I  have  used  and  shall 
continue  to  use  freely,  the  term  Anglo-Saxon.  There  is  an  Anglo-Saxon 
race  and  an  Anglo-Saxon  civilization.  The  civilization  embraces  more 
than  the  race.  The  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  Anglo-Saxon,  polit 
ically,  is  representative  government.  It  is  to  the  Teutonic  race,  and  espe 
cially  to  the  English  Teutons  that  the  world  is  indebted  for  this  polit 
ical  principle,  which  has  shown  its  ability  to  overcome  all  the  evils  to 
which  the  greatest  empires  have  succumbed.  But  this  principle  is  not 
the  exclusive  property  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  In  our  Revolutionary 
war  the  Scotch  and  the  Irish  elements  of  our  population  were  as  brave, 


l88  THE   SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

as  patriotic,  as  self-sacrificing,  as  steadfast  as  the  Anglo-Saxon.  Their 
love  of  liberty  was  no  less,  and  whatever  antagonisms  of  race  existed 
or  may  now  exist,  it  is  a  fact  that  the  political  beliefs  of  the  Scotch  and 
the  Irish  people  were,  as  they  now  are,  the  same  essentially  as  those 
of  the  English. 

The  relations  of  the  Irish  and  of  a  certain  class  of  the  English  are 
not  at  the  present  time  altogether  harmonious,  but  their  political  faith 
is  not  different;  and  the  chief  cause  of  the  Irish  discontent  is  the  con 
viction  of  the  people  that  they  are  not  allowed  the  fullest  exercise  of  the 
right  of  local  self-government;  and  local  self-government  is  nothing  more 
than  another  name  for  representative  government.  It  may  be  said  briefly 
that  in  most  essential  respects  the  political  and  social  beliefs  of  Eng 
land  and  of  Ireland  have  been  the  same  for  centuries,  having  grown  con 
tinually  more  alike  since  the  days  of  the  first  Edward.  If  we  except 
the  Highland  Clans,  the  same  statement  may  be  applied  to  England 
and  Scotland. 

I  have  been  surprised  to  hear  it  asserted  recently,  and  more  than 
once,  that  the  lowland  Scotch  are  Celts.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  exceed 
ingly  difficult  to  say  precisely  what  they  are.  The  mingling  of  races 
has  been  constant.  The  Irish  and  the  Highlanders  have  remained  per 
sistently  Celtic,  but  even  the  English  is  a  highly  composite  race.  If 
we  omit  certain  parts  of  Spain  where  all  the  bloods  of  Europe,  and  possi 
bly  some  from  both  Asia  and  Africa,  have  been  mixed  together,  the  low 
land  Scotchman  has  the  most  divergent  and  complicated  genealogy  in 
Europe.  The  race  is  not  free  from  Celtic  blood,  but  the  intermixture 
has  been  occasional  and  the  other  and  predominant  elements  are  Teu 
tonic.  Some  writers  declare  them  to  be  Danes,  but  I  prefer  to  believe 
upon  authority  that  in  the  main  they  are  Anglo-Saxon,  and  that  includes 
the  Danes.  However  this  may  be,  I  assert  again  that  in  so  far  as  polit 
ical  and  social  beliefs  and  institutions  are  concerned,  the  English,  Scotch 
and  Irish  settlers  of  North  America  were  in  no  material  respect  different. 
I  have  already  said  that  the  fundamental  article  in  the  political  creed 
was  government  by  representation.  The  foundation  principles  of  the 
social  fabric  were,  as  they  are  now,  the  purity  of  women  and  the  sanc 
tity  of  the  family.  It  is  interesting  to  note  in  passing,  that  while  we 
claim  these  as  essential  properties  of  our  German  civilization,  there  is 
at  present  no  country  in  which  the  purity  of  womanhood  is  so  rigidly 
and  so  nobly  maintained  as  it  is  in  Ireland.  Of  the  races  which  settled 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  189 

the  Southern  English  Colonies,  the  most  important,  numerically  and  in 
every  other  respect,  was  the  English;  next  in  importance  were  the 
Scotch-Irish  and  the  Irish. 

Of  the  Scotch-Irish,  being  one  of  them,  I  may  say  that  they  were 
lowland  Scotch,  that  is  to  say  Teutons,  not  Celts.  They  came  to  Amer 
ica  mainly  from  Ulster,  where  they  had  intermarried  somewhat  with 
the  Irish;  but  they  remained,  above  all,  Scotch  Presbyterians,  accepting 
without  mitigation  the  theology  of  John  Calvin  and  John  Knox,  but 
strong  in  thrift  and  in  acquisition.  Their  impress  upon  the  civilization 
of  Virginia,  with  which  we  are  now  mainly  concerned,  was  powerful 
and  beneficent,  but  we  are  somewhat  inclined  to  overestimate  it.  I  am 
personally  very  well  satisfied  to  trace  my  descent  from  the  Covenanters 
of  old  Scotland,  and  of  the  Valley  of  Virginia;  but  I  am  hardly  prepared 
to  subscribe  to  the  new  covenant,  which  would  bind  us  to  the  assertion 
that  most  of  the  good  things  that  have  been  done  in  this  country  have 
been  done  by  Scotch-Irishmen.  They  have  done  so  many  good  things 
that  their  descendants  should  be  satisfied,  and  should  forego  the  exorbi 
tant  claims  which  some  of  them  are  now  disposed  to  make.  It  is 
important  in  estimating  the  formative  influence  of  the  Scotch-Irish 
race  upon  the  civilization  of  Virginia  to  remember  that  the  Scotch-Irish 
were  late  comers.  It  was  not  until  a  century  and  a  quarter  after  the 
landing  at  Jamestown  that  they  came  in  considerable  numbers  to  the 
Valley  of  Virginia  and  the  adjacent  highlands.  Here  they  set  up  the 
Church  of  their  fathers,  and  from  thence  forward  they  and  their  descend 
ants  have  been  a  mighty  power  for  good.  But  when  they  came  the  Eng 
lish  ascendency  had  long  been  established  in  the  colony.  Virginia  was 
already  populous  and  her  social  and  political  institutions  were  shaped 
and  fixed.  All  that  the  Scotch-Irish  did  was  good,  but  they  made  less 
than  two  per  cent  of  the  population,  and  their  comparative  feebleness 
is  indicated  by  the  fact  that  so  long  as  Virginia  remained  a  colony  the 
Church  of  England  continued  to  be  a  part  of  the  government. 

It  was  the  inevitable  result  of  the  numerical  superiority  of  the  English 
that  the  modifications  resulting  from  the  contact  of  the  two  races  were 
favorable  to  the  stronger  people.  The  racial  persistency  of  the  Scotch, 
a  proverbially  exclusive  people,  was  not  easily  to  be  overcome  and  their 
religious  faith  was  invincible;  but  in  other  respects  they,  like  the  rep 
resentatives  of  all  the  other  races  that  came  to  Virginia,  were  soon  Anglicised. 

The   settlers   of  Virginia   of  other   races   than   the   three    mentioned 


1 9°  THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

were  few  in  number,  and  if  we  except  the  Huguenots,  their  influence 
is  hardly  perceptible.  The  Germans  settled  in  considerable  numbers 
in  the  lower  valley,  and  William  Wirt  is  one  of  the  great  men  contributed 
by  them  to  Virginia.  The  Huguenots  furnished  a  number  of  promi 
nent  families,  such  as  the  Dabneys,  Maryes,  and  Flournoys.  But  the 
colony  remained  nevertheless  essentially  English.  Its  white  population 
was  perhaps  as  nearly  homogeneous  as  the  population  of  the  Mother 
Country.  Institutionally  it  was  absolutely  English. 

I  have  not  time  to  consider  at  equal  length  the  other  three  colonies, 
but  content  myself  with  saying  that  what  has  been  said  of  Virginia  is 
also  true  of  them.  They  were  English  colonies  in  blood  and  in  institu 
tions.  It  is  well  known  that  the  Huguenots  came  in  large  numbers  to 
the  Carolinas,  and  not  a  few  of  their  best  families  of  to-day  came  from 
that  excellent  stock.  But  the  Anglo-Saxon  was  dominant  in  number 
and  in  influence,  and  in  a  few  generations  practically  absorbed  the  others. 

We  have  then  at  the  period  of  the  revolution  four  English  colonies, 
populous  and  prosperous  communities,  cherishing  the  principles  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  freedom,  and  demanding  for  themselves  all  the  rights  and  all  the 
institutions  which  those  principles  imply. 

I  pause  here  to  say  with  emphasis  that  the  three  peoples  who  have 
built  up  the  Anglo-Saxon  civilization,  the  English,  the  Scotch  and  the 
Irish,  together  with  the  Dutch  and  the  Swiss,  whose  institutions,  social 
and  political,  are  of  the  same  stock,  have  both  in  action  and  in  thought 
accomplished  the  best  results  of  modern  times.  That  is  to  say,  that 
their  schemes  of  life  variant  in  details,  but  identical  in  essence,  are  the 
best  the  human  mind  has  been  able  to  construct. 

The  American  Revolution  was  not  a  breaking  away  from  principles, 
but  a  revolt  against  vicious  practices.  It  resulted,  it  is  true,  in  certain 
institutional  changes,  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  in  its  essence  the 
American  polity  remains  identical  with  the  English.  It  was  not  an 
effort  to  establish  new  principles,  but  to  have  the  benefit  of  piinciples 
long  estalished;  to  get  back  to  the  English  method,  not  to  get  away 
from  it. 

I  wish  to  say  here  in  answer  to  the  question  in  your  minds:  Yes, 
I  know  what  Mr.  Douglass  Campbell  has  to  say.  I  am  fresh  from  read 
ing  the  chapters  in  which  he  proves  to  his  own  satisfaction  the  incorrect 
ness  of  all  opinions  but  his  own,  on  this  subject.  He  would  have  us 
believe  that  practically  everything  that  is  good  in  America  comes  to  us 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  IQI 

through  the  Puritans  from  the  Dutch.  The  fact  that  the  Dutch  are 
of  the  same  race  with  the  English,  and  that  their  institutions  are  of  the 
same  origin  and  very  similar,  has  enabled  Mr.  Campbell  to  employ  his 
polemic  faculties  somewhat  plausibly  in  the  construction  of  a  new  and 
erroneous  theory.  I  do  not  lightly  oppose  my  own  unsupported  opinion 
against  that  of  so  eminent  a  man,  but  the  facts  and  the  authorities  are 
against  him.  It  may  be  said  also  that  by  his  extreme  advocacy,  and 
his  procrustean  use  of  facts  he  has  discredited  himself.  He  does  not 
seek  to  prove  that  the  American  people  are  not  English,  but  that  the 
institutions  of  the  Northern  Colonies  are  of  Dutch  origin.  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  understood  as  denying  anything  good  he  has  said  of  the  Dutch 
people  or  institutions.  In  that  respect  he  exaggerates  nothing.  No 
people  has  a  nobler  history.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  Dutch  influ 
ences  in  America  has  been  both  important  and  salutary,  but  Mr.  Camp 
bell  has  vastly  overstated  it.  He  admits  that  Englishmen  may  be  ex 
cused  for  believing  that  our  institutions  are  of  English  origin,  but  de 
clares  that  no  American  is  excusable.  Let  us  see  who  are  some  of  these 
inexcusables. 

If  you  will  turn  to  George  Bancroft's  history  of  the  United  States 
you  will  find  this  title  to  part  one  of  it,  "The  English  People  found  a 
Nation  in  Ameiica."  In  vol.  2,  page  327,  he  says  of  America:  "Eng 
land  was  the  mother  of  its  language,  the  home  of  its  traditions,  the  source 
of  its  laws."  "Dutch,  French,  Scandinavian,  and  German  renounced 
their  nationality  to  claim  the  rights  of  Englishmen  in  America."  .  .  . 
In  the  same  connection  he  says  distinctly  that  the  Colonists  held  their 
own  system  to  be  a  copy  of  the  English  with  additional  privileges  to  the 
common  people 

John  Fiske  says  (Civil  Govt.,  p.  187)  in  regard  to  the  written  Consti 
tution:  "Almost  everything  else  in  our  fundamental  institutions  was 
brought  by  our  forefathers  in  a  more  or  less  highly  developed  condition 
from  England."  Again  he  says  of  the  Federal  Union  (Civil  Govt.  201): 
"The  inhabitants  were  all  substantially  one  people.  It  is  true 
that  in  some  of  the  colonies  there  were  a  good  many  persons 
not  of  English  ancestry,  but  the  English  type  absorbed  and  assimilated 
everything  else.  All  spoke  the  English  language,  all  had  English  insti 
tutions.  Except  the  development  of  the  written  Constitution,  every 
bit  of  civil  government  described  in  the  preceding  pages  came  to  Amer 
ica  directly  from  England,  and  not  a  bit  of  it  from  any  other  country, 


IQ2  THE   SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

unless  by  being  first  filtered  through  England.  Our  institutions  were 
as  English  as  our  speech/'  These  two  men  (Bancroft  and  Fiske)  are 
the  highest  authority  on  this  subject  in  America,  both  of  far  greater  weight 
and  ability  than  Mr.  Campbell,  and  neither  of  them  a  controversialist. 
They  are  historians,  Mr.  Campbell  is  a  polemic.  Mr.  Campbell  would 
have  it  that  the  Puritans  stayed  eleven  years  at  Leyden  and  brought 
away  with  them  all  the  Dutch  institutions.  Mr.  Fiske  says  they  came 
away  from  Holland  in  order  to  preserve  their  own  traditions  and  organi 
zation  and  to  carry  out  purposes  which  were  impossible  there. 

Sir  Henry  Maine,  one  of  the  giants  in  his  department,  says  (Pop. 
Govt.  p.  207) :  "The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  is  a  version  of  the 
English  Constitution."  In  the  same  vol.,  p.  9,  he  says,  "Modern  popu 
lar  government  is  of  purely  English  origin."  On  p.  n,  he  says,  "The 
American  Constitution  is  distinctly  English." 

Edward  A.  Freeman  says:  "In  a  sense  the  English  and  American 
Constitutions  are  the  same." 

So  far  as  authority  goes,  Mr.  Campbell  is  in  a  hopeless  minority,  and 
I  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  book  by  Fiske,  from  which  I  quote, 
was  printed  in  1892,  so  that  the  author  had  the  same  advantages  of  mod 
ern  research  that  Mr.  Campbell  had,  and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that 
Mr.  Fiske  is  the  most  conscientious,  just  and  competent  student  and 
writer  of  American  history.  He  is  now  devoting  all  his  time  to  the  sub 
ject.  Mr.  Campbell's  book  has  had  such  large  local  currency  that  I  have 
felt  it  necessary  to  say  this  much  in  support  of  my  position.  The  limited 
space  available  has  compelled  me  to  confine  myself  to  the  citation  of 
authority.  I  wish  you  to  bear  in  mind  also  that  I  have  not  been  discuss 
ing  the  relative  merits  of  the  Dutch  and  English  civilization,  but  only 
the  derivation  of  American  civilization,  and  that  merely  in  outline  and 
not  in  detail. 

It  is  not  to  be  disputed  that  from  early  mediaeval  times  to  almost  the 
period  of  the  great  English  Revolution,  and  the  final  expulsion  of  the 
Stuarts,  the  Dutch  led  the  march  of  civilization  in  Europe.  In  the  me 
chanic  arts,  and  in  commerce  and  finance,  they  were  easily  first,  and 
Holland  was  a  light-house  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  Her  history 
is  illustrated  by  the  most  heroic  and  sublime  struggle  for  freedom  that 
men  have  ever  made,  but  these  splendid  and  incontestable  facts  do  not 
destroy  the  other  fact  that  American  institutions  are,  broadly  speaking, 
English  in  origin  and  in  quality.  That  the  establishment  of  the 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 


American  Republic  was  an  advance  in  the  true  line  of  Anglo-Saxon 
development  cannot,  in  my  judgment,  be  successfully  denied.  But  while 
the  American  colonists  were  chiefly  men  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  they 
were  not,  at  the  period  of  the  Revolution,  Englishmen.  Theodore  Roosevelt 
is  right  when  he  says  that  there  was  at  that  time  a  race  which  was  distinct 
ively  American.  White  men  had  been  living  in  Virginia  and  in  New 
England  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and  in  most  of  the  other 
colonies  nearly  as  long.  Few  Americans  of  that  time  had  ever  seen 
England;  the  broad  and  troubled  expanse  of  the  Atlantic  was  not  quickly 
nor  easily  crossed;  very  few  could  afford  to  travel;  the  mixture  of  alien, 
and  sometimes  unfriendly  blood  had  moderated  the  sentiment  of  loyalty 
to  Britain;  and  the  free  life  under  wholly  new  conditions  had  begotten 
habits  and  feelings  of  independence.  The  people  were  called  Ameri 
cans,  they  were  not  treated  as  Englishmen,  and  they  had  their  pride 
of  country  and  their  love  of  country.  The  period  was  ample  for  har 
monizing  the  various  elements,  and  for  creating  local  attachments,  but 
more  important  than  all  was  the  recognition  of  a  community  of  inter 
est  and  of  destiny.  So  that  we  have  in  the  Southern  colonies  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolution  a  population  whose  prevailing  characteristics  were 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  a  civilization  which  was  absolutely  Anglo-Saxon,  but 
this  population  was  not  English,  it  was  American.  The  future  progress 
of  these  communities,  if  left  to  themselves,  will  necessarily  be  along  the 
line  of  the  grand  old  German  civilization.  The  institutions  of  America 
are  more  liberal,  more  rational,  more  beneficent  than  those  of  England, 
of  Holland,  of  Switzerland;  but  they  have  no  development  of  which 
the  germ  may  not  be  found  in  the  crude  polity  of  the  old  Germans,  of 
which  the  English,  the  Dutch  and  the  Swiss  civilization  were  born. 

If  the  other  colonies  had  been  different  in  race  or  in  institutions, 
their  modifying  influence  upon  the  Southern  Colonies  would  necessarily 
have  been  great,  but  they  were  also  in  the  main  Anglo-Saxon.  In  course 
of  time  the  Northern  States  underwent  important  changes  in  population. 
The  opening  of  the  third  decade  of  this  century  witnessed  the  setting 
in  of  that  mighty  tide  of  immigration  which  has  "known  no  retiring  ebb." 
Immigration  seems  to  have  a  tendency  to  follow  isothermal  lines,  a  fact 
which  makes  Italian  immigration  a  menace  to  the  South.  Most  of  the 
immigrants  have  been,  until  recently,  from  the  north  of  Europe.  This 
is  probably  not  the  only  cause  of  the  northward  and  westward  flow 
of  immigration,  but  we  are  less  concerned  with  causes  than  with  the 
facts.  We  know  that  the  South  has  had  almost  no-  immigration. 

13 


IQ4  THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

Consequently  the  increase  of  population  has  been  much  less  in  the 
South  than  in  the  North  and  West.  In  certain  Western  States  the  for 
eign  population  is  supreme.  It  controls  their  politics  and  casts  down 
rulers  and  parties  for  the  heinous  crime  of  wishing  to  have  the  English 
language  taught  in  the  public  schools.  The  little  pocket-borough  of 
Nevada,  a  notable  mart  for  the  sale  of  senatorships,  affords  a  striking 
illustration  of  the  benefits  of  foreign  rule. 

Since  the  days  of  Imperial  Rome,  when  the  sway  of  the  Caesars,  ex 
tending  from  the  Humber  to  the  Indus,  from  the  Scythian  Wilderness 
to  the  Ethiopian  Deserts,  brought  together  in  the  Eternal  City  multi 
tudes  of  all  the  peoples  dwelling  in  those  wide  limits,  and  begat  a  race 
infinitely  composite  and  infinitely  corrupt,  there  has  been  no  such  a 
mingling  of  blood  as  we  now  witness  on  these  western  shores. 

New  York  is  more  Jewish  than  Jerusalem  ever  was,  more  German 
than  any  city  on  earth  except  Berlin,  and  probably  more  wicked  than 
any  except  Chicago.  Chicago  is  American  only  in  politics  and  in  geog 
raphy,  and  Cincinnati  only  in  pork  and  in  manners.  Of  the  15,000,000 
descendants  of  the  old  Puritans,  Boston  retains  a  very  few,  and  New 
England  has  become  the  refuge  of  so  many  French-Canadians  that  re 
cently  some  of  them  in  an  outburst  of  gallic  enthusiasm  proposed  the 
establishment  of  a  new  Latin  republic  with  Boston  as  its  capital. 

But  statistics  are  more  convincing  than  general  statements,  and  in 
deed  much  more  entertaining.  There  is  no  more  fascinating  study. 
According  to  the  late  Mr.  Buckle,  everything  can  be  proved  by  statis 
tics,  and  more  recent  writers  have  demonstrated  that  when  skillfully 
handled  they  are  capable  of  proving  anything.  In  this  instance  I  take 
them  straight  from  the  unimpeachable  census  reports  of  the  United 
States  for  the  purpose  of  showing,  not  that  the  other  States  are  not  Amer 
ican,  but  that  the  South  is  American.  I  confine  my  attention  exclusively  to 
the  white  population.  According  to  the  census  of  1890  there  were  for 
every  100,000  native  born  Americans,  17,330  foreign  born.  The  State 
of  New  York  has  in  round  numbers,  4,400,000  native  and  1,500,000 
foreign  born  citizens,  being  35,000  foreign  for  every  100,000  native.  In 
Illinois  the  number  of  foreign  born  for  each  100,000  native  is  28,200; 
in  Michigan,  35,000;  in  Wisconsin,  44,400;  in  Minnesota,  56,600;  in 
Montana,  48,400;  North  Dakota,  80,400. 

When  we  turn  to  the  Southern  States  the  contrast  is  impressive.  By 
Southern  States  I  mean  Alabama,  Arkansas,  Florida,  Georgia,  Ken- 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  IQ5 

tucky,  Louisiana,  Mississippi,  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina,  Ten 
nessee,  Texas,  Virginia  and  West  Virginia.  I  do  not  include  Delaware, 
Maryland  and  Missouri. 

The  white  population  of  Tennessee  is  1,336,000,  and  the  total  num 
ber  foreign  born  29,629;  that  is  to  say  for  every  100,000  native  born  whites 
there  are  1,500  foreign  born;  North  Carolina  has  native  whites  1,055,000, 
foreign  born  3,702,  or  for  each  100,000  native  born,  370  foreign  born. 

In  the  other  Southern  States  the  figures  are  as  follows: 

Native  Foreign 

Alabama    833,000  15,000 

Arkansas 818,000  14,000 

Florida 225,000  22,000 

Georgia    978,000  12,000 

Kentucky 1,600,000  59,000 

Mississippi     545,000  8,000 

Louisiana    558,000  49,000 

South  Carolina    462,000  6,000 

Texas 1,700,000  152,000 

Virginia 1,000,000  18,000 

West  Virginia 730,000  18,000 

I  have  omitted  the  odd  hundreds  and  the  total  foreign  born  white 
population  of  the  South;  counting  in  these  odd  hundreds  amounts  to 
about  380,000. 

Massachusetts  alone  has  a  foreign  born  population  of  657,000;  New 
Jersey  329,000,  or  nearly  as  many  as  the  whole  South;  New  York  nearly 
1,600,000,  or  four  times  as  many  as  the  South;  Pennsylvania  845,000; 
Ohio  459,000,  or  more  than  the  entire  South;  Illinois  842,000;  Michigan 
and  Wisconsin  each  over  500,000;  Minnesota  nearly  500,000;  and  California 
366,000.  If  we  omit  Kentucky,  Louisiana  and  Texas,  the  little  State  of  Con 
necticut  has  60,000  more  foreigners  than  all  the  remainder  of  the  South; 
and  wee  Rhode  Island,  approximately  as  large  as  Knox  County,  has 
within  14,000  as  many  foreigners  as  the  entire  South,  omitting  the  three 
States  named. 

But  these  figures  do  not  indicate  the  real  importance  and  influence 
of  the  foreign  born  population.  One  of  the  mitigated  and  highly  quali 
fied  blessings  which  we  enjoy  is  universal  suffrage.  It  is  difficult  to 


196  THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

find  one's  consent  to  a  suffrage  limited  in  any  way,  but  there  is  abundant 
justification  for  dissenting  from  a  system  which  converts  a  foreign  an 
archist  like  John  Most  into  an  American  citizen  in  a  very  few  years, 
honestly  and  on  any  political  emergency,  immediately  and  dishonestly. 

The  proportion  of  adult  men  among  immigrants  is  much  larger  than 
in  settled  societies.  For  instance,  of  the  1,571,000  foreign  born  citizens 
of  New  York,  1,084,000  are  voters,  while  of  4,400,000  native  born  citi 
zens,  1,769,000  only  are  voters.  In  percentages  the  foreign  born  vote 
in  New  York  is  38.73;  in  Illinois,  36.39;  in  Michigan,  40.22;  in  Wis 
consin,  52.93;  in  Minnesota,  58.55;  North  Dakota,  64.89;  Nevada,  51.41; 
California,  native  49.79,  foreign  50.21. 

These  are  foreign  countries,  and  it  is  a  positive  relief  to  turn  to  the 
South  and  feel  that  there  are  still  some  Americans  left.  The  percentages 
of  native  and  foreign  born  voters  in  some  of  the  Southern  States  are  as 
follows : 

Native  Foreign 

Tennessee    97.00  3.00 

Kentucky 93«oo  7-O° 

Alabama    97-5°  2-5° 

Mississippi     98.00  2.00 

Louisiana     90.00  10.00 

Texas 86.00  14 .00 

Arkansas / 97.00  3.00 

Virginia 97.00  3.00 

West  Virginia 95-OO  5.00 

North  Carolina 99-39  °-01 

South  Carolina    98.00  2.00 

Florida 89.00  1 1 .00 

Georgia    98.00  2.00 

I  have  used  the  word  voters  to  describe  the  class  of  immigrants  last 
referred  to.  It  is  not  a  fact,  however,  that  they  are  all  voters.  More 
than  a  million  of  them  are  aliens.  Of  this  million  it  is  probable  that 
most  of  the  dishonest  ones  vote;  and  the  fact  that  a  man  is  willing  to  live 
in  America  and  remain  an  alien  marks  him  as  unworthy.  Such  a  man 
cares  nothing  for  freedom,  except  as  it  may  serve  his  personal  ends,  has 
no  conceptions  of  the  duties  of  citizenship,  and  is  unworthy  to  enjoy 
them.  It  is  interesting  to  know  that  some  thirty-two  per  cent  of  these 
foreign  Americans  cannot  speak  the  English  language. 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  197 

I  will  not  confuse  you  with  more  figures,  but  the  statement  which 
I  now  make  is  important.  I  have  made  comparisons  of  census  reports 
for  1860,  1870,  1880  and  1890,  and  in  none  of  the  Southern  States  except 
Kentucky,  with  the  large  city  of  Louisville;  Louisiana,  with  the  large 
city  of  New  Orleans,  and  Texas  lying  on  the  Mexican  frontier,  has  there 
been  a  material  increase  of  foreign  population  since  1860.  That  there 
was  none  before  that  date  is  certain.  In  the  North  precisely  the  contrary 
is  true,  and  when  we  consider  how  constant  has  been  the  turbid  flow 
of  immigration  it  is  appalling  to  think  how  hybrid  the  population  is. 

The  white  population  of  the  Southern  States  then  has  come  almost 
entirely  from  the  natural  increase  of  the  original  settlers.  Who  these 
original  settlers  were  I  have  already  said.  They  were  sturdy  men  and 
women,  mainly  of  the  good  old  English  race,  leading  the  westward  and 
resistless  march  of  Anglo-Saxon  civilization.  They  were  the  true  sons 
and  daughters  of  liberty.  From  the  days  of  Tacitus  their  race  has  stood 
in  the  world's  history  as  the  exemplar  and  champion  of  personal  purity, 
personal  independence  and  political  liberty.  For  them  no  life  but  one 
of  freedom  was  possible.  These  traits  have  descended  to  their  children 
from  generation  to  generation,  and  I  can  never  believe  that  hybrid  popu 
lation  of  Russians,  Poles,  Italians  and  Hungarians,  which  fills  so  many  of 
the  Northern  and  Western  cities  and  States,  has  the  same  love  of  this 
country,  the  same  love  of  liberty,  that  we  have,  whose  fathers  wrested 
the  land  from  the  savage,  and  whose  native  air  is  freedom.  The  strongest, 
most  concentrated  force  of  Americanism  is  in  the  Southern  States,  and 
Americanism  is  the  most  advanced  form  of  Anglo-Saxon,  of  German  civiliza 
tion.  There  is  no  part  of  the  globe  except  the  kingdom  of  England  which 
is  so  thoroughly  and  essentially  Anglo-Saxon  as  the  South.  In  asserting 
this  elsewhere,  I  have  met  no  serious  denial,  but  it  has  been  said  that 
the  very  homogeneity  of  our  population  is  a  preventive  of  progress.  One 
gentleman  profoundly  learned  in  the  science  of  sociology  declared  that 
homogeneity  was  productive  of  fixity,  and  that  heterogeneity  was  indis 
pensable  to  plasticity.  Afterwards  I  discovered  where  Herbert  Spencer 
makes  a  materially  modified  and  decidedly  more  appropriate  use  of  these 
ponderous  phrases. 

It  is  freely  asserted,  not  without  truth  of  course,  that  the  conditions 
of  progress  are  better  fulfilled  in  America  than  elsewhere,  because  we 
are  in  a  state  of  flux  and  therefore  highly  impressionable.  There  is, 
however,  socially  and  intellectually  a  degree  of  flux  which  is  more  injuri- 


198  THE    SOUTH   IS  AMERICAN 

ous  than  the  most  rigid  fixity,  an  excessive  plasticity  which  will  admit 
of  no  impression.  Herbert  Spencer,  writing  of  social  types  and  consti 
tutions,  says:  "The  half-caste,  inheriting  from  one  line  of  ancestry  pro 
clivities  adapted  to  one  set  of  institutions,  and  from  the  other  line  of 
ancestry  proclivities  adapted  to  another  set  of  institutions,  is  not  fitted 
for  either.  He  is  a  unit  whose  nature  has  not  been  moulded  by  any  social 
type,  and  therefore  cannot  with  others  like  himself  evolve  any  social 
type."  As  examples  he  cites  Mexico  and  the  South  American  Repub 
lics.  He  also  refers  to  England,  a  country  peopled  mainly  by  varieties 
of  the  Scandinavians  as  one  in  which  the  conditions  are  favorable  to  co 
operation,  and  I  may  as  well  admit  here  frankly  that  I  do  not  regard  the 
unlikeness  between  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  the  other  branches  of  the  Aryan 
family  as  sufficient  to  make  intermixture  in  any  direction  a  serious  ob 
stacle  to  progress,  or  preventive  of  co-operation.  The  trouble  with  us 
is,  that  at  present  we  are  receiving  only  the  most  inferior  elements  of 
those  branches  of  the  Indo-Germanic  family,  whose  political  and  social 
life  is  most  strongly  contrasted  with  our  own,  together  with  large  num 
bers  whose  connection  with  that  family  is,  to  say  the  least,  doubtful. 
It  is  hardly  possible  to  dissent  from  the  beautiful  optimistic  theory 
that  it  is  the  high  privilege  of  this  great  country  to  accomplish  the  fusion 
of  all  the  branches  of  the  Aryan  family;  but  when  we  consider  the  nature 
of  the  particular  elements  with  which  we  are  required  to  fuse,  the  task 
assumes  proportions  which  demand  all  the  enthusiasm  a  lofty  purpose  can 
beget.  The  Southern  American,  with  his  English,  Scotch,  Irish,  Dutch, 
Huguenot  ancestry,  has  enough  diversity  to  secure  all  needed  plasticity, 
and  moreover,  the  world  is  now  become  more  neighborly.  We  have  con 
tacts  in  all  directions,  and  receive  impulses  from  all  nations,  and  there 
is  no  reason  why  we  should  hybridize  ourselves.  I  would  not  unduly 
exalt  our  own  race,  nor  our  own  civilization,  nor  exclude  any  worthy 
man  or  woman  from  the  priceless  benefits  of  this  free  government,  but 
replying  to  the  demand  for  plasticity,  I  may  modify  John  Tyndall's 
catching  phrase,  and  say  that  I  behold  in  the  American  people  of  the 
original  race,  "the  promises  and  the  potency  of  every  form  and  quality" 
of  successful  national  life,  and  of  unlimited  progress. 

I  turn  now  to  an  argument  which  must  be  handled  delicately  but 
frankly.  It  is  freely  said  "it  is  true  the  people  of  the  South  are  Ameri 
can,  and  have  preserved  the  Anglo-Saxon  traits  better  than  the  people 
of  the  other  States,  but  a  war  was  necessary  to  keep  them  in  the  Union." 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  199 

Love  of  country  is  a  noble  sentiment,  but  love  of  principle  is  a  nobler 
one.  No  one  ever  censured  the  pilgrims  of  the  Mayflower  because  they 
abandoned  the  land  which  had  been  the  home  of  their  fathers  for  twelve 
hundred  years,  and  fled  to  the  western  wilderness  rather  than  surrender  their 
faith.  They  were  faithful  to  a  principle.  I  claim  for  the  people  of  the 
South  in  the  war  between  the  States  absolute  good  faith.  As  to  whether 
they  were  right,  we  must  be  content  to  have  the  impartial  judgment 
of  the  future  say.  To  discuss  that  question  now  could  do  no  good. 
The  principles  in  behalf  of  which  the  South  fought  are  embodied 
in  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  To  that  instrument,  I  reaffirm, 
the  South  has  never  been  unfaithful.  Her  construction  of  it,  whether 
right  or  wrong,  was  reached  and  maintained  in  good  faith. 

Permit  me  to  indicate  briefly  the  extent  of  her  participation  in  the 
formation  of  the  Constitution  and  in  the  establishment  and  support  of 
the  republic.  I  have  already  referred  to  her  part  in  the  War  of  Inde 
pendence,  and  I  now  assert,  in  the  language  of  one  of  our  foremost  South 
ern  Congressmen,  that  the  Constitution  was  "adopted  and  promulgated 
by  a  convention  in  which  Southern  influence  predominated."  The 
title  of  Chapter  2,  of  part  I,  of  Bancroft's  history  is,  "Virginia  Statesmen 
lead  toward  a  better  Union."  The  movement  for  the  establishment  of 
the  Constitution  was  inaugurated  by  Virginia,  and  if  any  one  doubts 
the  statement  that  the  influence  of  George  Washington,  of  Virginia, 
rendered  the  convention  possible,  as  it  might  have  prevented  it,  I  refer 
him  to  the  greatest  living  American  historian,  who  is  a  New  Englander. 
Rutledge  and  Pinckney,  of  South  Carolina,  were  the  most  important 
contributors  to  the  form  and  to  the  substance  of  the  Constitution,  with 
one  single  exception,  viz.:  James  Madison,  of  Virginia,  who  justly  bears 
the  glorious  name  of  Father  of  the  Constitution.  Such  imperfections 
as  were  perceived  in  the  original  instrument  were  cured  by  the  Bill  of 
Rights,  which  was  mainly  the  work  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  of  Virginia. 
The  Constitution  was  first  construed  by  John  Marshall,  of  Virginia,  whose 
decisions  remain  unchanged,  as  they  will  remain,  so  long  as  the  Con 
stitution  endures.  During  almost  the  whole  of  the  formative  period  of 
our  national  life,  Southern  statesmen  held  the  Presidency  and  controlled 
our  policy.  They  gave  to  us  Florida,  now  become  a  modern  Sybaris, 
whither  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  frozen  North  flee  from  the  inhos- 
pitalities  of  their  own  winter  climate  to  luxuriate  in  perennial  sunshine 
and  in  palaces  of  more  than  oriental  magnificence.  They  added  to  our 


200  THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

domain  that  tremendous  and  fabulously  rich  empire  which  sweeps  from 
the  Mississippi  westward  to  the  South  seas.  The  school  of  strict  con- 
structionists,  which  made  a  fetich  of  the  Constitution,  was  founded  by  a 
Southern  statesman,  and  drew  most  of  its  adherents  from  the  South. 
When  the  Southern  Confederacy  was  formed,  it  adopted  as  its  organic 
law  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  with  a  very  few  modifications, 
all  of  which  aimed  at  a  more  perfect  democracy  or  at  the  removal  of  the 
ambiguities  of  the  old  Constitution.  There  is  no  fact  nor  logic  which 
can  prove  that  the  South  ever  deviated  from  her  fealty  to  the  Constitu 
tion  or  ever  shed  a  drop  of  blood  except  in  defense  of  the  principles  of  the 
Constitution  as  she  construed  them. 

I  have  said  this  much  upon  this  delicate  subject  in  no  spirit  of  ill  will 
or  controversy,  but  only  to  indicate  the  true  spirit  and  tendency  of  South 
ern  civilization.  It  is  necessary  to  have  in  mind  this  indisputable  fact, 
that  if  the  South  at  one  time  desired  the  severance  of  the  Union,  she  was 
never,  in  any  respect,  unfaithful  to  the  great  principles  of  free  government, 
which  are  the  life  and  the  soul  of  the  Constitution.  She  believed  that 
she  must  surrender  either  the  body  or  the  soul.  The  war  construed  the 
Constitution,  and  I  affirm  that  the  South  has  in  good  faith  and  unreserv 
edly  accepted  every  legitimate  result  of  the  war.  No  man  who  is  honest 
and  who  is  also  adequately  informed  will  say  that  her  people  are  not  as 
loyal  to  the  Constitution  and  to  the  Union  as  the  people  of  any  other  sec 
tion.  I  go  further  and  say  that  in  the  troubles  which  the  future  is  sure  to 
bring,  the  principles  and  the  institutions  of  American  liberty  will  find 
ready,  loyal  and  efficient  support  among  the  white  people  of  the  South. 
In  these  Southern  States  a  homogeneous  American  population  of  twelve 
millions  will  be  the  old  gaurd  of  the  Constitution. 

The  illiteracy  of  the  South  is  constantly  used  to  reproach  her.  It  is 
unfortunately  true  that  education  has  not  been  diffused  nor  encouraged 
as  it  ought  to  have  been,  but  the  controlling  forces  of  Southern  life  have 
been  from  the  beginning,  highly  intelligent,  and  the  plane  of  life  has 
been  exceptionally  high.  One  may  not  deny  that  class  distinctions  were 
formerly  too  much  recognized,  but  also  it  is  true  that  the  method  was 
the  best  for  the  time.  Changed  conditions,  however,  imperatively  re 
quire  a  new  social  arrangement.  Of  the  Old  South  it  must  be  remem 
bered  that  the  best  element  ruled,  and  that  the  best  element  produced 
and  acted  through  men  who  were  both  morally  and  intellectually  fore 
most  in  their  time. 


THE    SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN  2OI 

If  you  care  to  investigate  the  subject,  you  will  find  that  before  the 
war  the  proportion  of  college-bred  men  to  white  population  was  much 
higher  in  the  South  than  in  any  other  section.  But  while  I  state  these 
facts,  I  wish  to  say  that  the  masses  of  people  of  the  South  do  not  even 
yet  fully  realize  the  tremendous  importance  and  advantages  of  educa 
tion,  and  it  may  be  further  said  frankly,  that  in  no  part  of  the  South 
are  the  interests  of  education  more  constantly  endangered  by  an  over 
weening  and  dangerous  commercial  spirit  than  in  our  own  section,  and 
in  our  own  community.  The  highest  pleasures  of  life  are  intellectual, 
and  highest  duties  of  life  can  be  performed  only  by  men  of  enlightened 
and  disciplined  minds.  A  fatal  mistake,  very  common  among  our  best 
people,  is  to  thrust  their  sons  into  the  grinding  and  absorbing  pursuits 
of  commerce  as  soon  as  they  have  acquired  the  rudiments  of  education. 
I  have  great  respect  for  the  man  who,  in  the  greedy  scramble  for  money, 
comes  out  with  a  hand  full,  and  I  recognize  the  imperativeness  of  the 
duty  to  provide  for  one's  self  and  family;  but  to  be  admired  and  respected 
above  all,  is  the  man  or  the  woman  whose  enlightened  mind  is  the  home 
of  broad  and  liberal  thought,  and  of  the  just  judgments  and  noble  aspira 
tions  which  it  begets.  This  is  best  for  men  and  for  business  also.  It  is 
literally  true,  as  Mr.  Breckinridge  said  a  year  ago,  that  the  superiority 
of  New  England  in  the  affairs,  no  less  than  in  the  literature,  of  this 
country  is  due  to  her  trained  mind.  Sound  opinion  in  this  respect  is 
constantly  growing  in  the  South  and  the  future  promises  everything  we 
can  wish. 

A  disregard  for  human  life  and  a  consequent  readiness  to  shed  blood 
on  inadequate  provocation,  has  been  charged  against  the  South  at  all 
stages  of  her  history,  and  the  accusation  has  only  too  much  justification. 
It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  in  new  and  sparsely  settled 
countries  the  means  of  enforcing  the  law  by  the  machinery  of  govern 
ment  are  always  deficient,  and  occasions  when  self-preservation  not  only 
justifies,  but  compels  the  individual  to  take  the  law  in  his  own  hands, 
are  not  infrequent.  The  increase  of  population  and  the  accumulation 
of  property  have  never  failed  in  this  country  to  cause  the  establishment 
of  wise  laws,  civil  and  criminal,  with  the  necessary  agencies  for  their 
enforcement.  We  may  remember  with  pride  that  sixty  years  ago  the 
legislature  of  Tennessee  put  down  forever  the  practice  of  dueling  in  this 
State.  We  must  condemn  the  violence  and  readiness  to  shed  blood,  which 
remains  a  blot  upon  our  Southern  civilization,  but  it  is  one  of  the  open 


202  THE   SOUTH   IS   AMERICAN 

and  curable  vices  of  a  new  society  and  far  less  to  be  feared  than  the  secret, 
insidious,  and  incurable  vices  of  the  old  societies,  whose  representatives 
are  continuously  poured  into  our  North  and  East  from  the  pestilent 
immigrant  ships.  The  burning  of  a  brutal  negro  in  Texas  was  an  atrocity 
which  can  neither  be  justified  nor  excused,  but  every  one  knows  that  it 
was  an  outburst  of  frenzy  provoked  by  a  crime  of  unparalleled  infamy, 
and  that  it  was  wholly  exceptional,  representing  nothing.  The  anarchist 
riots  in  Chicago  a  few  years  ago,  and  the  annual  demonstrations  of  that 
large  number  of  anarchists  who  unfortunately  were  not  hanged,  prove 
the  existence  in  that  city  of  an  organized,  active,  powerful,  and  ferocious 
opposition  to  society  and  law,  and  this  is  true  of  all  the  larger  cities  of 
the  North  and  West.  The  Texas  crime  was,  I  repeat,  wholly  unpre 
meditated  and  exceptional,  while  the  Chicago  crime  was  the  deliberate 
manifestation  of  the  sentiment  and  purpose  of  tens,  it  may  be  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  persons  still  living,  hating,  plotting  in  that  wonderful 
city. 

The  irresistible  progress  of  Christian  civilization  in  the  South  prom 
ises  everything  good;  and  the  unchecked  flow  of  criminal  immigration 
into  the  North  promises  nothing  good.  I  say  here  as  I  have  written  else 
where,  that  there  is  a  kind  of  immigration  which  the  South  does  desire. 
That  is  American  immigration.  The  strength  of  our  own  community 
consists  largely  of  our  countrymen  who  have  come  to  us  from  the  North 
and  West.  They  are  friends  of  law,  of  education,  of  morality.  For  my 
self  I  say  that  I  have  found  among  them  some  of  the  strongest,  the  most 
cherished,  the  most  elevating  friendships  of  my  life. 

The  problems  presented  to  the  South  are  of  tremendous  difficulty, 
but  they  are  not  beyond  her  powers.  Let  me  quote  what  Charles 
Dudley  Warner  has  to  say  of  us.  Writing  of  religious  conditions  in  the 
South  he  says:  "Will  it  not  be  strange,  said  a  distinguished  biblical  scholar 
and  an  old  time  anti-slavery  radical,  if  we  have  to  depend  after  all  upon 
the  orthodox  conservatism  of  the  South  ?  For  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the 
Southern  pulpit  holds  still  the  traditions  of  the  old  theology  and  the  mass 
of  Southern  Christians  are  still  undisturbed  by  doubts.  They  are  no 
more  troubled  by  agnosticism  in  religion  than  by  altruism  in  sociology. 
There  remains  a  great  mass  of  sound  and  simple  faith."  No  doubt  some 
will  say  that  this  very  conservatism  is  a  grave  fault.  I  like  a  man  who 
believes  something  and  believes  it  with  might  and  main.  There  is 
so  much  of  that  spiritless,  emasculated  kind  of  skepticism,  which  its 


THE   SOUTH   IS  AMERICAN  203 

professors  call  agnosticism,  that  one  would  welcome  another  Knox  or 
Calvin.  In  some  moods  I  would  vote  for  the  return  of  the  Puritans. 
But  that  aside,  we  have  it  established  that  socially,  politically,  relig 
iously,  the  South  has  progressed  steadily  and  invariably  along  true  lines; 
that  hers  is  a  true  Anglo-Saxon  Christian  civilization.  It  has  always 
been  so,  and  it  is  to  the  South  that  the  country  must  look  in  the  future 
for  its  inspirations  to  sound  and  simple  faith  in  politics,  no  less  than  in 
religion.  I  do  not  mean  party  politics;  I  mean  the  essential  principles 
of  representative  government. 

I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  say.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  of 
conventions,  and  to  read  editorials,  in  aid  of  immigration.  What  I  have 
said  is  not  friendly  to  indiscriminate  immigration,  and  having  said  as 
much  elsewhere,  I  have  been  met  with  the  assertion  that  we  cannot,  without 
immigration,  develop  our  country.  There  is  nothing  so  irrational  as  all 
this  hurry  to  develop  things.  I  would  far  rather  leave  the  development 
to  a  remote  posterity  than  accomplish  it  with  the  aid  of  Italian  lazzaroni 
and  Hungarian  paupers.  Let  us  keep  our  blood  clean  and  pure.  We  get 
along  well  enough  as  it  is.  Development  is  desirable,  but  it  need  not  be 
instantaneous.  Let  us  leave  to  our  children  something  to  develop.  If 
we  develop  everything  what  will  they  do  for  occupation  ?  Let  us  develop 
ourselves;  study  our  Yankee  cousins  and  learn  thrift  and  economy,  and 
content  ourselves  with  moderate  earnings  and  savings.  And  so  having 
entered  my  special  plea,  I  say  again,  as  in  the  beginning,  that  now  is  the 
time  to  gather  the  material  of  our  history  and  have  it  ready  for  the  hands 
of  that  great  historian  who  is  coming  to  us  sooner  or  later. 


THOREAU,  THE  NATURE-LOVER  * 

OSTHUMOUS  success  is  an  excellent  thing  in  its  way,  but  it 
is  natural  to  wish  for  earlier  returns  from  our  investments. 
Thoreau  was  not  exempt  from  this  common  weakness.  Early 
in  his  career  he  printed  a  book,  but  the  public  declined  to  con 
cur  in  his  belief  that  it  was  worth  printing,  and  he  endured  the  mental 
and  physical  discomfort  of  carrying  a  large  part  of  the  edition  up  to  the 
garret  on  his  back.  His  correspondence  with  Horace  Greeley  proves 
that  for  many  years  the  great  editor  was  peddling  manuscripts  from  Con 
cord  among  the  impecunious  proprietors  of  such  ephemeral  and  forgotten 
publications  as  "Putnam's"  and  "Graham's"  Magazines. 

Perhaps  no  man,  in  America  at  least,  lived  as  cheaply  as  Thoreau. 
Six  or  seven  weeks  of  manual  labor  furnished  him  a  year's  support.  He 
was  a  copious  writer,  but  was  compelled  to  resort  to  manual  labor  for 
the  means  of  existence.  A  few  men,  and  perhaps  one  woman,  being 
of  the  higher  order  and  sympathetic,  bought  his  first  book,  and  read  it 
and  praised  it,  but  the  great  mass,  or  rather  the  small  mass  of  American 
readers,  was  obstinately  blind  to  its  merits. 

As  I  turn  this  morning  to  my  book  shelves,  I  count  eight  handsome 
volumes  inscribed  with  the  name  of  "Thoreau,"  and  the  circular  of  a 
great  publisher  informs  me  that  I  may,  if  so  minded,  purchase  two  more. 
Ten  volumes  published  and  widely  circulated,  a  rich  source  of  income 
to  the  publisher!  In  his  lifetime  the  author  could  not  sell  his  best  thought 
and  his  best  writing.  Now  his  very  note-books,  the  undigested  chance 
jottings  in  his  diary,  are  quickly  sold,  and  it  may  be,  occasionally  read. 
Is  it  what  we  vulgarly  call  a  "fad,"  this  revival  of  Thoreau,  or  has  it  a 
substantial  cause?  Is  it  a  caprice,  or  a  manifestation  of  deliberate  and 
sound  judgment?  It  is  no  new  thing  in  literature  for  meritorious  writers 
to  fail  in  their  own  generation,  and  become  the  favorites  and  heroes  of 
later  times.  Shakespeare  waited  two  hundred  years  for  full  recognition, 
but  now  for  a  century  he  has  held  the  undisputed  first  place,  and  the 
literature  of  Shakespeare  rivals  in  quantity  and  surpasses  in  quality 
the  prose  literature  of  England  in  Shakespeare's  time. 

Does  Thoreau  fall  within  the  category  indicated?  Was  it  the  fault 
of  the  public  and  not  of  the  author  that  "Walden,"  and  the  "Week"  fell 

*Published  in  New  England  Magazine  and  Yale  Review,  November,  1891.  (  205 ) 


206  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

so  flat,  and  that  the  charming  sketches  in  "Excursions"  commanded 
only  starvation  prices?  Has  Thoreau  re-appeared  as  a  comet  in  the  liter 
ary  firmament,  or  has  it  been  discovered  that  he  is  one  of  the  fixed  stars  ? 
Is  there  reason  for  believing  that  he  can  maintain  in  our  literature  the  con 
spicuous  position  to  which,  in  the  last  fifteen  years,  he  has  been  assigned 
by  the  strenuous  kindness  of  friends  and  the  well  conducted  advertising 
of  his  publishers?  Were  his  asceticism  and  solitariness  mere  eccentrici 
ties  and  affectations,  or  were  they  the  marks  of  a  genius,  so  high  or  so 
fine  that  it  could  find  no  fit  consort?  Did  they  indicate  a  superior 
endowment,  or  upon  the  contrary,  an  inferior  quality  of  mind,  a  cer 
tain  unsoundness,  giving  rise  to  distorted  opinions  of  life  and  duty? 
Is  his  literary  work  of  real  excellence?  Will  it  endure  the  tests  of 
time  and  increasing  culture?  Is  it  sufficient  support  for  a  claim  to  im 
mortality?  Is  it  in  form  or  substance  the  work  of  a  master? 

First  as  to  the  man.  He  was  of  Gallic  blood,  filtered  through  the 
Channel  Islands.  In  blood  as  well  as  in  intellect,  he  was  of  kin  to  Rous 
seau,  Victor  Hugo  and  Chateaubriand,  the  sentimentalists.  In  his  way, 
he  was  as  wildly  sentimental  as  Rousseau,  and  apparently  as  ready  as  the 
red  republicans  of  France  to  upset  the  existing  order.  He  found  almost 
as  much  to  condemn  in  sedate  and  democratic  Concord,  where  philos 
ophy  was  ere  long  to  find  her  western  abode,  as  the  revolutionists  saw  in 
Paris  or  Versailles. 

He  was  educated  at  Harvard,  where  he  was  in  no  way  distinguished, 
and  began  life  by  teaching  and  making  pencils.  In  the  latter  vocation 
he  found  his  first  opportunity  to  gratify  his  passion  for  eccentricity.  Hav 
ing  made  a  useful  invention,  he  refused  to  apply  for  a  patent  for  it  be 
cause  it  would  not  benefit  him  to  do  again  what  he  had  already  done. 
The  same  reasoning  might  have  induced  him  to  refuse  copyright  for  his 
books,  but  I  have  not  found  that  he  did  so.  At  all  events,  it  seems  that 
it  would  have  been  better  to  take  the  patent  and  its  proceeds  than  to 
borrow,  as  he  afterwards  did.  He  was  a  skilled  mechanic,  and  was  also 
abundantly  qualified  to  earn  his  living  as  a  surveyor.  He  did  not  marry, 
nor  try  to  marry,  would  not  vote  nor  pay  his  taxes,  nor  go  to  church. 
He  was,  in  an  amusing  way,  a  secessionist  and  a  nullifier. 

James  Parton  has  written  an  elaborate  and  laborious  argument  at 
tempting  to  prove  that  the  doctrines  of  Mr.  Calhoun,  in  their  ultimate 
analysis,  would  put  it  in  the  power  of  each  individual  citizen  to  nullify 
or  veto  the  acts  of  Congress.  It  is  not  an  important  fact,  but  it  is  divert- 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  2OJ 

ing  to  find  our  Diogenes  of  the  Walden  Woods  asserting  this  very  theory. 
In  his  essay  on  "Civil  Disobedience,"  he  says:  "Some  are  petitioning 
the  State  to  dissolve  the  Union,  to  disregard  the  requisition  of  the  Presi 
dent.  Why  do  they  not  dissolve  it  themselves? — the  union  between  them 
selves  and  the  State — and  refuse  to  pay  their  quota  into  the  treasury? 
Do  not  they  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the  State  that  the  State  does  to  the 
Union  ?"  In  the  same  essay,  he  advises  the  abolitionists  of  Massachusetts  to 
withdraw  their  support  both  in  person  and  in  property  from  the  State  gov 
ernment.  Some  of  his  utterances  go  beyond  secession  and  nullification.  He 
declares  that  the  same  objections  which  apply  to  standing  armies  may 
be  brought  against  standing  governments,  and  it  would  not  be  difficult 
to  convict  him  of  a  degree  of  sympathy  with  some  of  the  extravagancies 
of  the  anarchists  of  our  own  time.  He  was  also  a  free  trader.  This  is 
obviously  a  necessary  part  of  his  belief.  It  was  his  theory  that  every  man 
should  be  free  to  do  as  he  pleased,  surrendering  nothing  of  his  rights,  as 
he  conceived  them,  to  the  government.  He  refused  to  pay  his  poll-tax, 
and  went  to  jail.  A  friend  paid  it  for  him,  and  he  accepted  the  benefit, 
but  without  gratitude  or  repayment. 

It  is  not  easy  to  understand  why,  after  stickling  upon  a  point  of  con 
science  to  the  extent  of  submitting  to  imprisonment,  he  should  have  ac 
cepted  the  benefit  of  another's  payment  of  the  iniquitous  demand  of  the 
State.  His  logic,  carried  to  its  necessary  conclusion,  required  him  to 
remain  in  jail  until  the  State  confessed  itself  in  error  and  released  him. 
If  the  payment  of  the  tax  was  wrong,  he  had  no  right  to  accept  benefit 
from  it  when  made  by  another.  It  was  at  best  a  poor  compromise.  In 
this,  as  in  other  of  his  paradoxical  performances,  a  certain  limitation  is 
discoverable.  He  stops  short  of  the  conclusion.  As  the  vulgar  saying 
goes,  there  is  "more  bark  than  bite.'* 

Mr.  Lowell  comments  upon  the  fact  that  when  he  had  abjured  civili 
zation  and  determined  to  have  no  other  companions  than  the  blue-jays 
and  muskrats  of  Walden  Pond,  his  first  act  was  to  borrow  Bronson  Al- 
cott's  axe,  a  civilized  implement  from  a  civilized  man,  to  build  a  civil 
ized  abode.  There  is  certainly  a  degree  of  inconsistency  in  seeking 
primeval  solitude  and  simplicity,  with  a  sharp  Yankee  axe  on  one  shoul 
der  and  the  Bhagavad  Gita  under  the  other  arm.  Why  did  he  not  dis 
card  his  factory-made  dress,  clothe  himself  in  skins,  if  at  all,  make  his 
own  axe  of  stone,  build  a  wigwam  like  his  ideal,  the  red  man,  or  burrow  like 
his  ancestors  of  the  stone  age  and  his  neighbors,  the  muskrats?  Mr. 


208  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

Lowell,  whose  sketch  of  Thoreau  is  very  happily  written,  notes  that 
civilization  was  very  near  to  Walden,  and  that  Thoreau  could  easily  fall 
back  upon  it  in  an  emergency. 

Thoreau  was  in  the  habit  of  declaring  a  preference  for  the  society 
of  naked  Indians  and  wild  beasts,  and  he  did  go  away  and  live  for  a  while 
in  a  snug  shanty  by  Walden  Pond,  engaged  in  such  aboriginal  pursuits 
as  writing  books,  and  the  study  of  Hindu  Metaphysics.  In  a  few  years, 
however,  he  was  again  living  in  town,  accepting  all  the  disadvantages 
of  civilization,  though  still  inveighing  against  them.  He  was  writing 
books,  and  printing  them,  sending  Greeley  manuscript  after  manuscript, 
borrowing  seventy-five  dollars  from  him,  and  repaying  it  with  the  most 
scrupulous  exactitude. 

Why  should  this  defiantly  eccentric  person,  who  declares  that  he 
would  not  go  around  the  corner  to  see  the  world  blow  up,  care  to  write 
books  to  be  read  by  the  "vulgar  crowd"  of  men  and  women,  as  he  called 
them  ?  Perhaps  it  was  from  sheer  love  of  lecturing.  He  did  not  believe 
in  missionaries;  his  shibboleth  was  "every  man  to  his  own  affair."  He 
was  not  writing  in  order  to  do  good  to  others.  What  happened  to  others 
could  in  no  wise  affect  or  interest  one  so  thoroughly  apart  from  the  rest 
of  mankind.  Yet  we  have  from  his  pen  ten  fat  duodecimos,  with  a  mass 
of  note-books  remaining  whose  contents  have  not  yet  been  exploited. 
In  due  time,  no  doubt,  we  shall  have  more  volumes,  preceded  by  loud 
trumpetings  of  praise. 

Apropos  of  his  intense  and  defiant  individualism,  it  is  strange  that 
his  biographers  and  critics  have  paid  so  little  attention  to  his  profession 
and  practice  of  Buddhism.  There  is  very  good  ground  for  believing 
that  the  Walden  episode  was  not  more  a  result  of  temperament,  or  of  a 
desire  to  be  conspicuous  by  being  odd,  or  of  a  disinterested  purpose 
to  set  the  world  a  good  example,  than  an  attempt  to  put  into  practice 
somewhat  of  the  Hindu  philosophy  to  which  he  was  intensely  devoted. 
Whether  this  is  attributing  too  much,  or  too  direct  an  influence  to  his 
oriental  studies  or  not,  it  is  possible  to  trace  a  vein  of  Buddhism  all 
through  his  life  and  writings.  In  the  Walden  retirement  it  crops  out 
strongly. 

In  the  "Week,"  he  writes:  "The  reading  which  I  like  best  is  the 
scriptures  of  the  several  nations,  though  it  happens  I  am  better  acquainted 
with  those  of  the  Hindus,  the  Chinese,  and  the  Persians,  than  of  the 
Hebrews,  which  I  have  come  to  last."  Again  he  says:  "I  know  that 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  2OQ 

some  will  have  hard  thoughts  of  me,  when  they  hear  their  Christ  named 
beside  my  Buddha,  yet  I  am  sure  I  am  willing  they  should  love  their 
Christ  more  than  my  Buddha,  for  love  is  the  main  thing,  and  I  like  him  too. " 
Referring  to  his  diet  at  Walden,  he  declares  that  he  thought  it  fit  that  he 
should  live  mainly  on  rice,  because  he  loved  so  well  the  philosophy  of  India. 
Horace  Greeley,  writing  to  Thoreau,  refers  to  "your  genial  pantheism." 
This  pantheism,  with  great  certainty,  was  a  result  of  his  study  of  "Hindu 
Scriptures."  The  Brahmin,  with  his  belief  in  emanation  and  absorp 
tion,  as  the  origin  and  end  of  all  things,  and  his  doctrine  of  metempsychosis 
is  not  more  scrupulous  in  his  regard  for  all  forms  of  animated  existence 
than  was  Thoreau.  Says  Emerson:  "Though  a  naturalist,  he  used 
neither  trap  nor  gun."  Once  he  killed  and  ate  a  woodchuck,  but  repented 
it  long  and  sorely. 

Buddhism  is  a  philosophy  of  selfishness.  Each  man  must  see  to  his 
own  salvation,  regardless  of  the  fortune  of  others.  To  the  Buddhist 
self-culture  embraces  all  the  duties  of  life.  Not  the  Christian  self-culture, 
which  is  a  means  to  unselfish  ends,  but  a  selfish  culture,  which  is,  itself, 
the  only  end  worth  seeking.  In  this  way  he  hopes  to  attain  Nirvana, 
which  every  man  must  reach  if,  at  all,  by  his  own  efforts,  having  no  regard 
for  others,  as  they  must  have  none  for  him.  It  is  not  important  to  deter 
mine  whether  Thoreau  believed  in  Nirvana  or  not.  In  many  other  re 
spects  his  Buddhism  is  plainly  visible.  The  Buddhist,  seeking  to  attain 
serenity  by  modification  of  his  inner  nature,  wrought  by  his  own  unaided 
efforts,  is  commanded  to  forsake  parents,  wife,  children,  friends,  country, 
and  live  by  himself  and  for  himself  alone.  Hear  now  our  Walden  Budd 
hist  say:  "Probably  I  should  not  consciously  and  deliberately  forsake 
my  particular  calling  to  do  the  good  which  society  demands  of  me — to 
save  the  universe  from  annihilation."  Siddhartha  declared  that  the  life  of 
a  recluse  was  most  favorable  to  serenity.  He  encouraged  asceticism  and 
condemned  marriage.  A  lonely  life  in  the  forest,  he  said,  was  best  adapted 
to  that  self-conquest  which  comprised  every  duty  of  life.  Is  it  to  be  doubted 
that  Thoreau,  seated  in  his  lonely  hut  in  the  forest  by  Walden  Pond,  eating 
his  scanty  rations  of  rice,  apart  from  family  and  friends,  refusing  obedi 
ence  to  the  law,  virtually  abjuring  his  country,  not  willing  to  "go  round 
the  corner  to  see  the  world  blow  up/'  nor  to  surrender  his  selfish  pur 
poses  to  "save  the  universe  from  annihilation,"  was  practising  or  believed 
that  he  was  practising  the  teachings  of  his  Buddha  ? 

In  a  general  way  his  eccentricities  of  opinion  and  conduct  were  parts 


210  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

of  the  New  England  reformation.  We  are  not  surprised  by  anything 
said  or  done  in  this  extraordinary  period,  when  a  man  as  large-minded 
as  Ripley  undertook,  in  serious  mood,  the  conduct  of  Brook  Farm,  and 
when,  for  a  time,  the  calm,  strong  genius  of  Hawthorne  yielded  to  the 
vagaries  of  Fourier.  But  the  qualities  of  the  men  clearly  appear  in  their 
conduct.  Hawthorne  speedily  shook  off  his  illusions  and  became  the 
trenchant,  almost  unkind  satirist  of  the  movement  in  which  he  had  for 
the  moment  joined.  Emerson,  who  had  given  Thoreau  his  impulse  to 
the  study  of  oriental  literature  and  philosophy,  and  had  been,  in  many 
other  things,  his  inspirer  and  teacher,  never  lost  his  balance.  He  neither 
joined  any  impracticable  community,  nor  refused  to  associate  with  his 
fellow  men.  As  much  a  humanist  and  philanthropist  as  Ripley,  as  much 
an  orientalist  as  Thoreau,  his  well-balanced  mind  perceived  the  necessity 
of  making  the  most  of  life  as  it  was.  It  was  plain  to  him  that  he  could 
do  no  good  by  living  in  the  woods,  and  accomplish  no  good  purpose  by 
aiding  Miss  Fuller  to  milk  her  cows.  With  all  its  mistakes  and  extrava 
gances,  transcendentalism  was  productive  of  many  excellent  results.  Of 
all  its  good  qualities  and  products,  Emerson  was  the  embodiment.  Of 
its  vagaries,  Thoreau  affords  an  excellent  illustration.  Emerson  was 
sound;  Thoreau  was  not. 

It  is  said  of  Victor  Hugo  that  he  esteemed  himself  so  highly  that  he 
regarded  whatever  pertained  to  him  as  of  importance  and  interest  to  all 
mankind,  and  wrote  odes  to  commemorate  his  headaches  and  toothaches. 
This  form  of  egotism  is  essentially  Gallic.  Montaigne  wrote  four  charm 
ing  volumes  of  gossip  about  himself.  Rousseau,  who  believed  that  he 
had  been  cast  in  a  peculiar  mould,  which  had  been  at  once  destroyed, 
has  handed  down  to  posterity  a  carefully  revised  catalogue  of  his  opin 
ions  and  of  the  occurrences  of  his  career,  embracing  in  the  latter  depart 
ment  some  of  the  most  repulsive  things  that  have  ever  been  printed. 
Dumas  followed  his  example.  France  is  pre-eminently  the  land  of  pri 
vate  memoirs.  People  of  other  nations  write  memoirs  only  when  they 
have  matters  of  public  importance  or  interest  to  relate.  No  one  but  a 
Frenchman  thinks  his  toothache  or  his  indigestion  a  subject  of  universal 
interest.  No  one  but  a  Frenchman  photographs  himself  naked  for  the 
edification  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Intellectually,  Thoreau  was  closely  related  to  these  memoir  writers. 
He  has  left  us,  however,  nothing  unclean.  He  was  a  chaste,  clean  man 
and  writer,  but  he  has  written  three  thousand  duodecimo  pages  of  ego- 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  211 

tism.  The  world  of  his  books  revolves  about  himself  as  a  sun.  What 
ever  he  did,  said,  or  thought,  must  be  put  down  in  ink.  Wherever  he 
went  the  public  must  follow,  and  if  he  stopped  by  the  way  the  public 
must  stop  too,  and  hear  what  he  had  to  say  while  he  ate  his  lunch.  If 
his  shoe  became  untied  in  his  walk,  the  operation  of  repairing  the  acci 
dent  was  of  sufficient  importance  to  merit  an  accurate  description,  sup 
plemented  by  the  reflections  suggested  by  the  occurrence.  He  traveled 
in  the  Maine  woods,  inviting  American  readers  to  attend  him,  and,  with 
infinitely  wearisome  minuteness,  compelled  their  attention  to  all  the 
stumps  he  sat  upon  and  all  the  stones  he  chipped.  These  things  were 
important  because  they  had  been  related  to  him.  His  "Week  on  the 
Concord  and  Merrimack"  is,  perhaps,  the  least  interesting  of  narra 
tives,  so  far  as  incident  is  concerned.  It  is  strongly  and,  in  the  main, 
gracefully  written,  and  contains  a  vast  deal  of  philosophizing  upon  sub 
jects,  ranging  from  the  most  commonplace  to  the  most  transcendental; 
very  few  of  them  perceptibly  related  in  the  remotest  degree  to  the  sub 
ject  of  the  book.  These  reflections,  being  his  own,  could  not,  of  course, 
be  omitted.  His  eyes  were  never  off  himself.  As  a  writer,  he  was  a  per 
sistent  and  chronic  scold.  Except  thinking  and  writing  about  himself, 
he  enjoyed  nothing  so  much  as  lecturing  others,  treating  them  the  while 
as  if  they  were  residents  of  the  transcendental  world,  instead  of  citizens 
of  an  excessively  practical  Republic  on  the  earth. 

He  was  opposed  to  government.  Commerce  was  an  evil;  the  best 
merchant  was  the  one  who  lost  most  money.  He  would  not  go  into 
trade  for  fear  he  might  make  money.  Commerce  with  England  was 
tolerable  only  because  it  had  brought  Carlyle's  thoughts  to  America. 
He  admired  John  Brown,  Chakia  Mouni,  Carlyle,  and  himself.  Per 
haps  there  were  others,  whom  I  cannot  now  recall.  He  conceded  good 
qualities  to  Webster,  but  blamed  him  because,  having  been  chosen  Sen 
ator  from  Massachusetts,  he  did  not  shape  his  course  as  if  he  were  a 
Senator  from  Utopia.  Lowell  refers  to  the  fact  that  he  complained  that 
there  was  no  one  in  Concord  with  whom  he  could  discuss  Hindu  philos 
ophy,  when  he  was  much  of  the  time  living  in  the  family  of  Emerson, 
his  master,  who  had  introduced  him  to  the  study  of  it.  Emerson  ex 
pressed  the  highest  admiration  for  his  perceptive  faculty.  Lowell  says 
he  acted  as  if  others  had  no  such  faculty,  and  was  continually  discoursing 
about  the  most  common  phenomena,  as  if  he  were  the  only  one  who 
had  ever  seen  the  sun  rise  or  set. 


212  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

It  would  not  be  fair  to  stop  here  in  our  analysis.  It  is  hardly  to  be 
disputed  that  the  peculiarities  which  have  been  referred  to  were,  many  of 
them,  cultivated.  They  were  artificial;  conscious  eccentricities.  French 
blood  craves  effect.  It  must  have  attention.  Frenchmen  do  not  make 
good  Buddhists  or  Stoics.  The  doctrines  of  Epictetus  have  never  taken 
deep  root  in  France.  Thoreau  wished  to  be,  and  to  be  considered,  a 
Stoic  and  a  Buddhist,  superior  to  misfortune,  suffering,  affection,  all  the 
feelings  and  passions  that  move  other  men.  He  cultivated  the  quality  of 
Stoicism  assiduously,  but  without  success.  He  could  not  change  his  nature. 
When  he  had  been  paid  out  of  jail  by  the  friend  whom  he  did  not 
thank,  he  went  to  the  cobbler,  and  got  his  shoe,  which  he  had  left  to  be 
mended,  and  then  joined  a  huckleberry  party.  In  such  expeditions 
he  was  a  frequent  and  favorite  leader. 

He  was  beloved  of  all  children.  In  short,  he  was  naturally  a  man 
of  kindly,  sympathetic  disposition,  and  with  all  his  orientalism  and  indi 
vidualism  in  theory,  he  could  not  divest  himself  of  a  strong  social  instinct 
and  a  fine  social  capacity.  Using  the  current  phrase,  he  was  "good 
company/'  and  he  liked  company.  Emerson  says  that  he  abandoned 
his  solitude  at  Walden  because  he  had  exhausted  its  advantages.  This 
is  no  doubt  a  part  of  the  truth,  but  it  is  also  clear  that  he  had  become 
tired  of  it.  It  will  not  do  to  say  that  he  intended  in  the  beginning  to 
remain  only  temporarily.  He  was  putting  into  practice  his  theory  of 
life.  In  a  sense,  he  was  placing  himself  on  exhibition  as  an  example  of 
"low  living  and  high  thinking."  To  show  that  one  could  live  as  he  advo 
cated  for  something  over  two  years,  did  not  prove  his  case. 

The  Walden  solitude  and  the  Brook  Farm  Society  alike  failed.  Tho 
reau,  it  is  said,  had  the  double  purpose  of  teaching  right  living  and  learn 
ing  the  trade  of  authorship  at  Walden.  In  the  first,  if  this  was  his  pur 
pose,  he  signally  failed.  He  made  himself  conspicuous,  but  attracted 
neither  following  nor  approval.  Soon  after  he  abandoned  his  hut,  the 
performance  having  ended,  it  was  put  upon  wheels  by  a  neighboring 
farmer,  and  hauled  off"  to  be  used  as  a  corn-crib,  in  which  capacity  it  is 
said  to  have  done  duty  for  many  years.  If  Walden  was  a  good  place  for 
writing  books,  why  did  not  he  stay  there?  He  says  he  had  as  good  a 
reason  for  coming  away  as  he  had  for  going  there.  No  doubt  he  had 
a  much  better  one.  He  had  been  trying  a  foolish  experiment,  and  had 
discovered  his  folly.  To  say  that  he  was  compelled  to  go  there  in  order  to 
practice  writing  is  absurd.  Emerson  and  Hawthorne  had  no  difficulty  in 
learning  the  trade,  or  in  carrying  it  on  in  Concord. 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  213 

It  was  impossible  for  Thoreau  to  live  without  society.  Being  by 
nature  both  a  writer  and  a  talker,  having  a  well-stored  mind,  his  com 
fort  and  happiness  depended  upon  having  an  outlet  for  his  thought,  an 
audience  for  his  speech,  a  public  to  read  his  writings.  He  had  some 
thing  to  say  and  could  not  tell  it  to  the  loons,  something  to  write  and 
to  print  and  the  muskrats  could  not  read  it.  He  loved  music,  and  the 
squirrels  and  the  blue-jays  did  not  furnish  good  quality.  He  loved  chil 
dren  and  his  friends,  and  the  mutual  attraction  was  so  strong  that  after 
a  while  he  shut  up  his  shanty,  tacitly  confessing  his  mistake,  and  returned 
to  the  world,  from  which  he  had  never  departed  more  than  three  miles, 
and  ever  afterward  endured  with  serenity  the  multitude  of  social  evils. 
Even  now  the  world  looks  upon  him  in  the  light  of  his  Walden  esca 
pade  as  a  hermit,  an  ascetic,  and  a  cynic.  Undoubtedly  his  life  was 
austere  and  abstemious,  but  in  other  respects  this  conception  is  erroneous. 

Upon  this  genial,  kindly,  and  social  nature  were  imperfectly  grafted 
certain  peculiarities,  the  results  of  his  studies  in  oriental  philosophy, 
and  of  the  intense  and  often  misguided  intellectual  and  moral  activity 
of  the  time  in  which  he  lived.  Like  most  grafted  fruit,  the  product  was 
inferior.  Looking  beyond  his  eccentricities,  we  shall  find  much  to  approve 
and  to  admire.  His  idealism  is  of  the  loftiest  kind.  The  morality  of 
his  books  is  in  every  respect  and  in  the  highest  degree  admirable.  The 
fact  that  we  cannot  now  put  his  moral  precepts  into  practice  does  not 
prove  them  unsound  in  principle.  We  shall  probably  not  be  able  to 
utilize  them  until  the  millenium;  but  this  would  be  a  sorry  world  indeed 
if  none  of  us  believed  in  or  hoped  for  a  better  state  of  affairs  than  now 
exists,  nor  ventured  to  protest  against  present  evils  and  demand  their 
removal. 

Our  slavery  to  money  and  trade,  our  dishonesty  in  business,  our 
constant  creation  of  artificial  wants  and  waste  of  time  in  gratifying  them, 
our  worship  of  the  material  and  neglect  of  the  intellectual,  the  spiritual, 
the  really  excellent,  these  and  all  the  shortcomings  and  evils  of  society 
were  incessantly  and  trenchantly  denounced.  His  leanings  were  all 
to  the  right.  The  intensity  of  his  nature  carried  him  to  extremes,  so 
that  he  was  in  no  sense  a  practical  reformer,  but  rather  a  prophet  fore 
telling  a  better  state,  a  sentimentalist  seeing  things  as  they  ought  to 
be,  not  as  they  are.  Perhaps  this  statement  should  be  qualified,  because 
when  John  Brown  had  been  arrested  Thoreau  hastened  to  the  Concord 
Lyceum  to  sound  his  praise.  The  managers  objected,  saying  the  time 


214  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

was  not  ripe,  but  our  idealist  had  no  such  word  as  policy  or  expediency 
in  his  vocabulary.  He  had  something  to  say,  and  intended  to  say  it, 
and  did  say  it.  It  made  no  difference  to  him  whether  affairs  were  ready 
or  not.  In  this  and  in  other  ways  he  efficiently  aided  in  the  anti-slavery 
agitation.  In  the  light  of  subsequent  events  his  folly  was  better  than 
the  wisdom  of  the  party  managers. 

He  was  an  ardent  lover  of  nature,  and  the  greater  part  of  his  time 
was  devoted  to  "communion  with  her  visible  forms."  He  knew  almost 
to  the  hour  when  every  flowering  thing  in  Concord  township  would  bloom. 
He  was  on  intimate  terms  with  the  natives  of  forest  and  stream.  He 
would  stand  immovable  for  hours  among  the  trees,  and  the  squirrels  and 
birds  would  come  about  him  as  if  he  were  a  part  of  the  forest  growth. 
In  the  same  way  he  would  stand  in  the  shallows  of  the  river  until  the  fish 
would  become  accustomed  to  his  presence  and  permit  him  to  take  them  in  his 
hands.  He  appears,  however,  to  have  been  content  to  observe  phenomena 
and  to  catalogue  facts,  so  that,  while  he  has  left  a  valuable  and  inter 
esting  record  of  observations,  he  cannot  be  said  to  have  contributed 
anything  of  special  importance  to  science. 

In  what  estimation  shall  we  hold  such  a  man?  Is  not  the  general 
impression  one  of  weakness  rather  than  of  strength?  Like  Hamlet  he 
found  the  "time  out  of  joint."  His  efforts  to  set  it  right  came  to  naught. 
He  failed  at  Walden,  and  the  faults  of  society,  which  he  hated  and  de 
nounced,  grew  every  day  greater  before  his  eyes.  Not  only  did  he  fail 
so  far  as  others  were  concerned,  but  he  must  also  have  been  conscious 
of  his  own  errors  of  judgment  and  infirmity  of  will.  His  perception 
was  faulty  and  his  efforts  misdirected.  Emerson,  the  most  ideal  of 
transcendentalists,  had  a  firm  hold  upon  the  real  world,  as  well  as  the 
ideal  world,  and  no  American  thinker  or  writer  has,  so  powerfully  as 
he,  influenced  his  countrymen.  It  was  in  this  respect  that  Thoreau 
was  fatally  lacking.  He  was  wholly  impracticable,  and  this  necessarily 
implied  mental  limitation  and  inferiority.  While  Emerson  made  a  visi 
ble  and  lasting  impress,  Thoreau  made  none.  The  exaggeration,  the 
paradox,  the  utter  disregard  of  actual  conditions  which  distinguished 
his  utterances  and  his  conduct,  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  guide  or 
control  men.  He  was  continually  discounting  himself.  In  very  truth 
he  had  no  capacity  for  leadership.  He  could  not  lead  himself. 

While  he  lived  he  exerted  no  influence  upon  others.  In  his  conduct 
there  was  nothing  notable,  inspiring,  or  heroic.  In  his  books  there  is 


THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER  215 

no  body  of  doctrine,  neither  coherency,  nor  system.  His  personality 
is  unique,  eccentric,  nothing  more.  Notwithstanding  his  exceptionally 
high  qualities,  intellectual  and  moral,  it  is  not  possible  to  pronounce 
him  a  great  or  even  a  strong  man.  If  he  has  any  claim  to  eminence,  it 
must  rest  upon  his  literary  achievements.  It  is  true  of  him,  as  of  other 
writers,  that  his  character  is  manifest  in  his  books.  The  first  thing  to 
be  noted  of  these  is  that  the  basis  of  all  of  them  is  nature.  Their  names 
clearly  indicate  this:  "Excursions,"  "Summer,"  "Walden,"  "Cape  Cod," 
"Early  Spring  in  Massachusetts,"  "The  Maine  Woods." 

When  we  get  beyond  the  titles,  we  discover,  however,  that  they  treat 
not  only  of  nature,  but  of  every  other  thing  which  it  has  entered  into  the 
mind  of  man  to  conceive.  One  seeing  for  the  first  time  the  title,  "A 
Week  on  the  Concord  and  Merrimac  Rivers"  would  naturally  expect 
an  account  of  a  boating,  fishing,  and  exploring  trip.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  while  the  book  does  contain  something  of  this  kind,  it  includes  a 
great  deal  more  that  has  no  more  necessary  connection  with  the  Con 
cord  or  the  Merrimac,  than  with  the  man  in  the  moon,  or  with  Sanscrit 
roots.  It  is  in  this  book  that  the  author  discourses  most  persistently  upon 
Hindu  and  other  philosophies.  If  you  wish  to  know  his  opinions  on 
friendship,  love,  poetry,  literature,  architecture  and  most  other  subjects 
they  are  to  be  found  here.  All  this  begets  disappointment  and  exas 
peration.  If  one  wishes  to  learn  Buddhism,  or  architecture,  he  naturally 
prefers  books  that  professedly  treat  of  them.  It  is  hardly  fair  to  tempt 
the  lover  of  nature  with  such  a  title,  to  lure  him  off  to  the  Concord  or 
the  Merrimac,  and  then  inflict  upon  him  interminable  discourses  upon 
dry  and  totally  irrelevant  topics,  relieved  here  and  there  with  verse  which 
is  indisputably  bad.  This  objection  will  apply  with  almost  equal  force 
to  "Walden,"  and  in  less  degree  to  all  his  narrative  works.  There  is 
something  in  "Walden"  about  Walden,  but  very  much  more  about  other 
things.  This  discursiveness,  scrappiness  detracts  very  materially  from 
both  the  interest  and  the  value  of  the  books.  Thoreau  is  never  so  enter 
taining  as  when  relating  with  stimulating  enthusiasm  the  natural  history 
of  his  native  woods,  and  fields,  and  waters.  We  value  him  most  as  a  chron 
icler  of  these.  We  lack  confidence  in  the  extent  and  exactness  of  his 
knowledge  and  the  soundness  of  his  judgment  in  the  matters  of  which 
he  has  so  much  to  say  so  inopportunely. 

Now  and  then,  in  the  "Week,"  he  seizes  his  oar;,  and  sends  his  boat 
with  vigorous  strokes  spinning  along.  You  catch  the  breeze,  expand 


2l6  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

your  lungs  with  the  bracing  air,  and  say  to  yourself,  "this  is  pleasant, 
this  is  what  I  wished  and  expected;"  but  the  thought  has  hardly  passed 
before  the  oars  again  dip  idly  in  the  water,  the  breeze  is  lost,  and  the  sun 
pours  down,  while  the  boatman  forces  into  your  unwilling  ears  such 
lines  as  these: 

"Conscience  is  instinct  bred  in  the  house, 
Feeling  and  thinking  propagate  the  sin 
By  an  unnatural  breeding  in  and  in. 
I  say  turn  it  out  of  doors 
Into  the  moors. 

I  love  a  life  whose  plot  is  simple, 
And  does  not  thicken  with  every  pimple." 

This,  by  the  way,  is  classified  as  poetry,  and  has  something  of  a  metrical 
form.  Instead  of  breaking  into  poetry,  it  may  be  that  he  will  say  with 
earnest  though  fatiguing  irrelevancy:  "We  can  tolerate  all  philosophies. 
Atomists,  Pneumatologists,  Atheists,  Theists,  Plato,  Aristo  le,  Leucip- 
pus,  Demociitus,  Pythagoras,  Zoroaster,  and  Confucius,"  etc.  He  has 
invited  you  to  go  boating,  and  this  is  what  he  gives  you.  The  root  of  all 
this  is  egotism.  No  doubt  he  really  believes  that  all  he  has  to  say  is  of 
interest  and  value  to  others.  In  many  instances  it  is  neither  interesting 
nor  valuable,  and  this  method,  or  want  of  method,  is  fatal  to  him  as  a 
bookmaker  He  seems  to  be,  as  a  writer,  almost  devoid  of  the  sense 
of  proportion  and  propriety.  Perhaps  he  wilfully  disregards  both  pro 
portion  and  propriety.  There  is  a  place  for  everything.  The  natural 
history  of  Massachusetts  has  no  affinity  with  Leucippus,  and  certainly 
there  is  no  perceptible  justification  for  essays  on  Solon  and  Chaucer  in 
a  book  of  New  England  travel. 

"The  Week"  and  "Walden"  might  very  well  be  published  together 
with  some  such  title  as  "The  Miscellaneous  and  Inconsequential  Opin 
ions  of  Henry  D.  Thoreau  upon  a  Variety  of  Subjects." 

The  scrappiness  of  his  books  indicates  a  corresponding  quality  of 
mind.  Believing  in  personal  inspiration  it  is  quite  probable  that  he 
conceived  it  to  be  his  duty  to  set  down  always  the  thought  which  came 
into  his  mind  without  regard  for  connection  or  relevancy,  or  the  con 
venience  or  approval  of  the  reader.  This  hop,  skip,  and  jump  method 
of  thinking  and  writing  renders  real  enjoyment  of  his  books  impossible 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  21 7 

to  all  except  kindred  transcendental  spirits,  in  whom  sympathy  is  suffi 
ciently  developed  to  cover  the  multitude  of  his  sins.  This  peculiarity 
may  be  an  affectation,  in  which  event  it  is  beyond  pardon,  or  it  may 
result  from  incapacity  for  sustained  effort.  Probably  both  hypotheses  are 
correct.  The  two  books  under  consideration  were  published  during  his  life, 
and  are  the  best  known  of  his  longer  productions.  "Walden"  is  the 
more  readable,  and  has  always  been  the  more  popular.  The  name  is 
happily  chosen  to  stimulate  curiosity,  by  reason  of  its  reference  to  the 
episode  by  which  Thoreau  is  most  widely  known.  It  is  safe  to  say, 
however,  that  very  few  will  read  "Walden"  a  second  time,  or  go  through 
it  even  once,  without  much  vexation,  mingled  with  occasional  pleasure 
and  unavoidable  admiration  of  its  excellent  though  varying  literary  quality. 
Who  cares  to  read  again  a  book  which  contains  a  little  of  everything, 
and  not  very  much  of  anything,  especially  when  it  is  undertaken  as  a 
volume  of  natural  history  and  personal  reminiscence  and  proves  to  be 
a  volume  of  everything  else? 

Readers  of  natural  history  will  not  wade  through  long  drawn  chap 
ters  of  philosophizing  to  find  the  facts  they  seek.  Students  of  philos 
ophy  will  not  care  to  plant  beans  and  dig  roots  with  Thoreau.  There 
is  no  class  of  readers  to  whom  these  books  will,  in  their  totality,  be  inter 
esting.  In  the  main,  they  are  admirably  written,  but  there  are  enough 
books  with  coherence  and  harmony  of  construction  which  are  better  writ 
ten.  Upon  these  books,  Thoreau's  reputation  as  a  prose  writer  mainly 
depends,  and  they  are  so  composite,  so  discursive,  and  so  incongruous 
in  substance,  that  they  cannot  be  popular  even  among  the  higher  class 
of  readers.  To  the  general  public  they  will  be  known  hereafter,  as  they 
have  been  known  heretofore,  by  name  only.  To  no  one  have  they  any 
substantial  value.  They  may  possibly  retain  a  certain  notoriety  as  curiosi 
ties  of  literature. 

The  "Yankee  in  Canada,"  "The  Maine  Woods,"  and  "Cape  Cod/' 
are  more  homogeneous  and  coherent.  As  a  rule,  however,  the  style 
is  inferior  to  that  of  the  "Week"  and  "Walden,"  and  the  interest  purely 
local.  The  subject  matter  is  of  a  kind  to  interest  no  one  but  the  inhabitants 
•  of  the  regions  to  which  they  relate,  and  them,  not  very  much.  It  would 
require  a  very  exceptional  literary  excellence  to  make  such  books  accept 
able  to  the  general  reader,  or  any  but  the  local  reader.  They  contribute 
nothing  to  their  author's  popularity  and  do  not  commend  him  to  the 
critics. 


2l8  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

Passing  from  the  longer  and  more  pretentious  books  to  the  essays 
and  occasional  pieces,  we  find  some  attractive  material.  The  volume 
entitled  "Excursions,"  contains,  perhaps,  the  best  of  these.  There 
are  few  pieces  of  descriptive  writing  in  the  language  more  beautiful  than 
"A  Winter  Walk."  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  make  acquaintance  with 
it  on  a  winter  afternoon,  during  one  of  the  rare  snow-falls  of  our  South 
ern  latitude,  and  ever  since  it  has  possessed  for  me  an  irresistible  charm. 
I  have  read  it  again,  every  winter  since  that  time,  and  always  with 
renewed  pleasure.  Thoreau  says  himself  that  books  of  natural  history 
make  the  best  winter  reading,  and  I  know  of  nothing  more  delightful 
than  to  read  "A  Winter  Walk"  on  a  snowy  day. 

A  few  of  the  essays  are  critical  and  biographical  and  are  of  no  spe 
cial  value.  Thoreau's  judgments  of  men  and  books  were  as  fantastic 
as  his  opinions  of  government  and  conduct.  The  sketch  of  Carlyle  is 
strongly  written,  but  abounds  in  the  most  exaggerated  transcendental 
ism.  It  was  composed  in  the  first  enthusiasm  of  early  acquaintance, 
when  Carlyle  was  an  ardent  idealist,  not  to  say  mystic.  His  idealism, 
and  his  extravagant  vigor  of  phrase,  were  very  pleasing  to  Thoreau, 
and  exerted  a  powerful  and  lasting  influence  upon  him. 

Ruskin  seems  not  to  have  suited  him  so  well.  Rather  a  surprising 
fact,  because,  intellectually,  there  is  in  many  respects  a  striking  simi 
larity  between  the  two.  Ruskin,  however,  was,  if  not  an  artist,  a  lover 
and  an  historian  of  art,  while  Thoreau  loved  or  claimed  to  love,  only 
nature.  The  "Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture,"  he  said,  was  made  of  good 
stuff,  but  there  was  too  much  about  art  in  it  for  him  and  the  Hottentots. 
Probably  Ruskin's  later  writings  would  have  pleased  him  more. 
Other  of  the  essays  are  "Civil  Disobedience,"  "Slavery  in  Massa 
chusetts,"  "Life  without  Principle,"  and  "John  Brown."  None  of 
these  is  in  any  way  remarkable.  They  are,  like  most  of  his  books,  written 
in  a  vigorous  but  uneven  style.  This  inequality  of  execution  is  a  prin 
cipal  defect  of  all  his  books.  Aside  from  the  facts  narrated,  these  essays 
are  repetitions,  with  more  or  less  modification,  of  the  opinions  and 
theories  which  we  have  found  in  "Walden,"  and  the  "Week." 

There  remains  to  be  noticed  that  part  of  his  prose  writing  which  is 
almost  literally  transcribed  from  his  note  books.  The  literary  value  of 
note  books  is  necessarily  inconsiderable.  We  are  accustomed  to  be 
served  with  the  finished  product,  not  the  raw  material,  and  naturally 
prefer  it.  It  is  hardly  possible  for  the  ordinary  reader  to  judge  of  such 


THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER  2IQ 

books,  because  it  is  well  nigh  impossible  for  him  to  read  them.  They 
may  possess  a  strong  local  interest,  they  may  be  pleasant  to  the  highly 
cultivated  palates  of  the  transcendental  elect,  but  to  the  inferior  and 
uninitiated  orders  of  men  and  women,  they  are  "flat,  stale,  and  unprofit 
able."  Their  publication  is  a  manifestation  of  an  extraordinary  hero- 
worship,  or  of  a  determination  to  work  up  all  the  product  of  a  profitable 
mine,  no  matter  how  inferior  the  remaining  material  may  be.  The 
literature  of  the  world  is  no  richer  by  their  publication.  They  are  parts 
of  a  set  of  books  and  increase  the  income  of  the  publishers  by  their  due 
proportion.  The  name  of  the  author,  having  a  market  value,  will  sell 
them  along  with  the  others.  Buyers,  as  a  rule,  will  take  the  whole  set. 
The  more  in  the  set,  the  larger  the  receipts. 

Thoreau  seems  to  have  entertained  occasional  aspirations  to  be  a 
poet.  Necessarily,  because  to  the  transcendentalists,  to  borrow  their 
own  high  flying  phrase,  "Poetry  was  the  only  verity,  contained  the  only 
reality."  "The  Week"  is  dotted  all  over  with  metrical  outbursts.  One  of 
these  has  been  quoted  above.  It  was  not  selected  as  the  worst,  and  is 
not  the  worst.  The  others  are  very  much  of  the  same  quality.  The 
transcendental  poets,  with  their  keener  insight  and  their  lofty  disregard 
of  mere  form,  did  not  confine  the  muse  to  the  conventional  tripping  gait, 
but  allowed  her  to  go  at  will.  A  distressing  unevenness  was  the  frequent 
result.  Dr.  Holmes  confesses  that  Emerson's  poetry  too  often  goes 
on  unequal  feet,  and  that  he  is  guilty  of  extreme  arbitrariness  in  some 
of  his  rhymes.  For  instance,  in  enforcing  a  concord  of  sound  between 
"bear"  and  "woodpecker"  and  compelling  the  ultimate  and  penulti 
mate  syllables  of  the  great  Napoleon's  name  to  rhyme  with  "noon." 
This  inequality  of  construction  and  this  independent  style  of  rhyming 
were  equally,  or  more,  characteristic  of  Thoreau.  It  is  said  that  he  had 
the  poet's  soul,  but  not  the  poet's  gift  of  song.  The  latter  is  certainly 
true,  the  former  possibly  so,  but  the  world  is  unreasonable  enough  to 
demand  the  song  before  it  concedes  the  title  of  poet. 

It  is  claimed  for  Thoreau,  that  if  he  had  been  born  in  one  of  "those 
fervid  climates  where  the  poets  sing  as  naturally  as  the  birds,"  he  would 
have  been  a  great  poet.  This  may  or  may  not  be  true.  There  is  no 
harm  in  believing  it,  and  nothing  unreasonable  in  not  believing  it.  Poets, 
even  great  poets,  are  not  confined  to  fervid  climates.  Some  of  the  great 
est  have  come  from  the  cold  northlands.  In  America,  the  finest  crop 
of  them  has  sprung  from  the  sterile  soil  and  been  nurtured  in  the  "inhos- 


22O  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

pitable  climate"  of  Massachusetts.  Emerson,  Longfellow,  Whittier, 
Holmes,  Lowell  and  Bryant  were  all  of  New  England.  Fervors  of  tem 
perature  were  not  necessary  in  their  cases.  It  is  a  sufficient  answer 
to  say  that  Thoreau  was  not  born  in  a  "fervid  climate,"  and 
was  not  a  great  poet.  He  was  not  even  a  poet  of  ordinary  merit,  and 
the  assertion  that  he  was  not  a  poet  at  all,  might  be  plausibly  supported 
Arguments  to  the  contrary  would  not  be  strongly  re-enforced  by  citation 
of  those  portions  of  his  writings  which  are  not  in  prose  form,  and  which 
are  called  poems. 

If  Thoreau's  claim  to  immortality  rests  upon  his  prose  writings,  it 
cannot  be  said  that  his  title  is  clear.  A  book  purporting  to  deal  with  a 
single  subject  should  be  a  consistent  and  harmonious  whole,  and  not 
composed  of  disconnected  parts.  Particularly  at  this  time,  when  the 
tendency  of  everything  is  toward  specialization,  it  is  impossible  for  books 
of  rambling  disquisitions  to  be  acceptable  or  valuable  to  any  class  of 
readers. 

In  what  department  of  knowledge,  or  of  thought,  shall  we  say  that 
Thoreau  was  well  founded  or  thorough?  What  shall  we  say  he  did  well? 
He  was  an  alert  observer  of  nature,  and  possessed  the  faculty  of  record 
ing  his  observations  accurately  and  attractively.  If  he  had  been  con 
tent  to  confine  himself  to  this  work,  for  which  he  was  so  well  adapted, 
the  foundations  of  his  fame  should  have  been  much  more  firmly  laid; 
but  in  his  fondness  for  paradox,  his  devotion  to  philosophical  and  mys 
tical  studies  and  discourse,  he  was  constantly  tempted  from  the  road 
which  he  should  have  pursued,  and  instead  of  books  of  natural  history 
and  scenery,  which  might  have  ranked  with  the  "Complete  Angler," 
or  the  Natural  History  of  Selborne,  the  best  he  has  left  are  inharmoni 
ous  and  ill-constructed  composites.  It  is  true,  as  Mr.  Lowell  says,  that 
some  of  his  sentences  are  as  perfect  as  anything  in  our  language,  but  it 
is  equally  true  that  his  style  lacks  sustained  excellence.  As  in  his  thought 
there  is  much  which  is  to  the  purpose,  with  not  a  little  which  is  not  to 
the  purpose,  so  as  a  rule  in  his  writing  a  high  degree  of  excellence  con 
stantly  alternates  with  positive  inferiority. 

It  will  not  be  claimed  by  his  most  ardent  admirer  that  Thoreau's 
books  are  at  all  calculated  for  popularity.  It  would  be  difficult  to  con 
ceive  themes  or  methods  of  treatment  less  popular,  and  there  is  no  writer 
in  the  language  who  professedly  held  popularity  in  such  slight  esteem. 
His  works  are  addressed  to  readers  of  the  higher  class,  who  resort  to 


THOREAU,   THE   NATURE-LOVER  221 

books  with  serious  purpose,  and  to  them  their  value  must  be  exceedingly 
limited,  by  reason  of  their  incompleteness  and  want  of  harmony  and  con 
nection.  Upon  the  whole,  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  for  concluding  that 
Thoreau  can  maintain  his  present  prominence  among  American  writers, 
or  that  his  place  in  literature,  if  permanent  at  all,  will  be  a  high  one. 

To  what,  then,  shall  we  attribute  the  apparent  popularity  which  has 
attached  to  his  books  for  the  last  decade  or  more?  In  the  first  place, 
we  have  begun  to  have  a  distinctly  national  literature,  in  the  creation  of 
which  Thoreau  and  his  contemporaries  and  associates,  of  the  transcen 
dental  school,  bore  an  important  part.  We  are  naturally  interested  in 
the  beginnings  of  this  literature,  and  grateful  to  those  who  founded  it. 
Unquestionably  Thoreau  is  entitled  to  high  praise  for  his  thorough 
going  Americanism.  He  was  one  of  the  first  American  writers  to  dis 
cover  that  his  own  country  and  his  own  people  afforded  the  materials 
for  a  literature.  He  was  one  of  those  of  whom  Emerson  says:  They 
found  they  were  not  compelled  to  go  to  Italy  to  find  sunsets;  the  Ameri 
can  article  was  just  as  good.  He  was  consciously  as  well  as  positively 
American,  and  in  more  than  one  place  in  his  books  vigorously  denounced 
the  spirit  of  imitation  which  characterized  American  writers  of  his  time, 
depriving  their  work  of  all  originality  and  real  value.  The  transcen 
dental  school  of  writers  is  entitled  to  the  larger  part  of  the  credit  which 
attaches  to  the  emancipation  of  our  literature.  Col.  Higginson  says 
that  "the  Dial  was  the  first  distinctively  American  literary  enterprise," 
and  to  this  brilliant  but  short-lived  periodical  Thoreau  was  a  constant 
contributor,  without  any  pecuniary  compensation. 

Another  cause  of  this  multiplication  of  his  books  is  the  personality 
of  Thoreau,  which  is  the  most  unique  in  our  literary  annals.  In  his 
own  time  he  was  widely  noted  for  his  refusal  to  pay  taxes  and  his  hermit 
life  at  Walden,  and  to  the  majority,  even  of  his  countrymen,  he  is  still 
known  only  by  these  episodes.  This  quaint  personality  is  behind  all 
his  books,  and  is  an  invaluable  aid  to  the  publisher  in  selling  them. 

To  these  causes  we  must  add  the  friendliness  and  the  great  influence 
of  his  editors  and  biographers.  His  chief  sponsor  was  Mr.  Emerson, 
and  no  better  fortune  could  have  befallen  an  American  author  than  an 
introduction  under  such  auspices.  To  Emerson  the  editing  of  Tho- 
reau's  books  was  a  labor  of  love,  but  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  conceal 
his  apprehension  that  the  public  might  not  be  able  to  perceive  the  excel 
lence  of  the  material  which  he  was  presenting.  For  instance,  he  has 


222  THOREAU,  THE   NATURE-LOVER 

been  to  the  trouble  of  going  through  Thoreau's  works  and  collecting 
a  large  number  of  disconnected,  strong  sentences  which  in  his  judgment 
prove  that  the  author  possessed  the  literary  faculty.  This  implies  an 
admission  that  there  is  more  chaff  than  wheat.  But  however  diffidently 
he  may  have  presented  the  books  to  his  countrymen,  his  indorsement 
was  sufficient.  Perhaps  Mr.  Sanborn  should  be  called  a  second  indorser. 
After  these  all  their  friends  and  followers  signed  their  approval,  and 
so  all  the  weight  of  New  England  culture  has  been  sympathetically  cast 
upon  the  side  of  Thoreau.  Books  so  handsomely  bound  and  so  highly 
indorsed  could  not  have  failed  to  sell.  That  such  an  indorsement  is 
of  great  value  and  not  to  be  lightly  treated  is  admitted,  but  it  partakes 
somewhat  of  the  nature  of  an  accommodation  indorsement  by  personal 
friends.  It  has  always  seemed  as  if  there  were  a  desire  upon  the  part 
of  his  New  England  friends  to  have  the  public  believe  of  Thoreau  what 
they  themselves  wished  to  believe,  namely,  that  he  was  a  great  writer 
and  thinker.  The  right  of  dissent  from  their  expressed  judgment  is 
not  to  be  denied,  and  the  dissent  ought  to  be  judged  solely  by  the  facts 
and  the  argument. 

As  our  literature  grows  in  quantity  and  improves  in  quality  these 
books,  despite  their  fitful  and  uncertain  brilliancy,  must  necessarily 
recede  more  and  more  from  the  public  view.  We  should  hold  their  au 
thor  in  high  esteem  for  his  sterling  personal  worth,  his  patriotism,  and 
the  valuable  assistance  which  he  gave  to  the  establishment  of  a  genuinely 
American  literature;  but  we  should  not  allow  our  gratitude  and  affec 
tion  to  blind  our  eyes  to  his  weaknesses  as  a  man,  or  his  limitations  as 
a  thinker  and  writer. 


LITERATURE  AND  LIFE  OF  A  PEOPLE.* 

|T  was  in  the  year  1820  that  Sidney  Smith  made  himself  odious 
to  Americans  by  his  famous  question:  "In  the  four  quarters  of 
the  globe,  who  reads  an  American  book,  or  goes  to  an  American 
play,  or  looks  at  an  American  picture  or  statue?"  This  was  the 
year  in  which  Irving  published  the  "Sketch  Book,"  and  one  year  before  the 
appearance  of  Cooper's  "Spy."  Not  far  from  this  time  the  "Edinburgh 
Review"  had  this  to  say  of  Irving,  who  was  then  the  foremost  American 
writer:  "He  gasped  for  British  popularity,  he  came  and  found  it.  He 
was  received,  caressed,  applauded;  natural  politeness  owed  him  some  re 
turn,  for  he  imitated,  admired  and  deferred  to  us  .  .  .  It  was  plain  that 
he  thought  of  nothing  else,  and  was  ready  to  sacrifice  everything  to  obtain 
a  smile  or  a  look  of  admiration."  Kit  North  more  kindly  said  of  Irving: 
"His  later  books  are  beautiful,  but  they  are  English." 

Some  years  later  Thoreau  wrote:  "We  are,  as  it  were,  but  colonies. 
True,  we  have  declared  our  independence  and  gained  our  liberty,  but  we 
have  dissolved  only  the  political  bonds  that  connected  us  with  Great 
Britain.  Though  we  have  rejected  her  tea,  she  still  supplies  us  with  food 
for  the  mind.  The  aspirant  for  fame  must  breathe  the  atmosphere  of 
foreign  parts,  and  learn  to  talk  about  things  which  the  home-bred  student 
never  dreamed  of,  if  he  would  have  his  talents  appreciated,  or  his  opinions 
regarded  by  his  countrymen." 

Theodore  Parker  said:  "American  literature  was  exotic,  and  the 
native  literature  was  rowdy,  consisting  mainly  of  campaign  squibs,  coarse 
satire,  and  frontier  jokes.  Children  were  reared  on  Miss  Edgeworth  and 
Mrs.  Trimmer,  whose  books,  otherwise  excellent,  were  unconsciously  satu 
rated  with  social  conventionalism  and  distinctions  foreign  to  our  society." 

These  quotations  present  the  fact  of  our  intellectual  dependence  upon 
England,  throughout  at  least  the  first  quarter  of  the  last  century.  The 
causes  of  this  are  obvious,  and  by  no  means  discreditable,  but  it  is  inter 
esting  and  in  keeping  with  my  present  purpose  to  inquire  how  we  have 
achieved  such  comparative  independence  as  we  have  since  enjoyed.  For 
many  years,  indeed  for  more  than  two  centuries,  all  our  energies  were  de 
manded  by  the  tremendous  task  of  subduing  this  great  continent.  Beginning 
on  the  Atlantic  coast,  we  fought  our  way  across  the  Alleghanies,  across  the 
Mississippi,  and  thence  to  the  Pacific.  Now  we  have  completed  the  humane 

*  An  Address,  A.  D.,  1900.  (223) 


224  LITERATURE   AND    LIFE    OF    A   PEOPLE 

undertaking  of  dispossessing  the  Indians,  we  have  killed  the  last  bison,  and 
have  laid  our  railways  and  set  our  telephones  in  every  part  of  our  splendid 
domain.  This  struggle  against  the  Indian,  and  against  material  forces,  and 
our  English  origin,  were  not  the  only  causes  of  our  intellectual  secondariness. 
It  is  true  that  we  are  mainly  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin,  and  it  is  also  true,  as 
Roosevelt  declares,  that  as  early  as  the  Revolution  there  was  a  race  of  men 
distinctly  American.  The  two  things  most  necessary  to  intellectual 
growth  and  to  the  development  of  literature,  art,  scholarship,  are  leisure,, 
which  implies  financial  independence,  and  a  community  of  sentiment,  a 
distinct  body  of  thought  to  be  expressed. 

The  literature  of  a  people  is  its  thought  precipitated,  crystalized.  Be 
fore  there  can  be  a  literature,  there  must  be  a  people  thinking  independently. 
Before  we  can  have  an  American  literature  we  must  have  an  American 
sentiment.  It  is  important  to  remember  that  while  this  country  has  re 
ceived  from  the  first  a  constant  stream  of  immigration,  it  is  in  recent  years 
that  the  stream  has  risen  to  its  greatest  height  and  become  most  corrupted. 
In  the  earlier  days  of  the  republic  the  number  of  immigrants  was  compara 
tively  small.  So  far  as  homogeneity  of  population,  which  begets  community 
of  sentiment,  was  concerned,  conditions  were  more  favorable  in  the  early  part 
of  the  last  century  than  afterwards.  But  in  every  part  of  the  country  save 
one,  the  people  have  been  absorbed  until  now,  incessantly  in  the  struggle 
for  existence.  The  exception  was  New  England.  Sixty  years  ago  New 
England  was  already  an  old,  populous,  and  rich  community,  and  its  popu 
lation  was  at  that  time  homogeneous.  In  addition  to  these  things,  her 
people,  from  the  first,  had  been  devoted  to  education  more  than  those  of 
the  Middle  and  the  Southern  States,  so  that  in  New  England  the  average 
of  culture  was  much  higher  than  elsewhere  in  America.  The  South  and 
West  were  but  sparsely  settled,  and  the  intellect  of  the  South  from  necessity 
was  directed  towards  politics,  and  not  towards  literature  or  scholarship. 
About  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  there  was 
a  widespread  intellectual  and  moral  awakening  in  Europe,  marked  by  a 
distinct  revival  of  idealism.  New  England  was  the  only  part  of  America 
where  conditions  were  favorable  to  the  reception  of  this  impulse.  Hence, 
broadly  speaking,  arose  the  New  England  revival  of  letters, which  many 
call  the  transcendental  movement. 

To  assign  a  precise  date  of  beginning  is  impossible.  Colonel  Higginson 
says  that:  "About  the  year  1836,3  number  of  young  people  in  America 
made  the  discovery  that,  in  whatever  quarter  of  the  globe  they  happened  to 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF  A   PEOPLE  225 

be,  it  was  possible  for  them  to  take  a  look  at  the  stars  for  themselves."  In 
comparably  the  finest  expression  of  the  spirit  of  the  movement  was  Emer 
son's  address  on  the  "American  scholar,"  delivered  in  1837.  Among 
other  things,  he  said:  "Perhaps  the  time  has  already  come,  . 
when  the  sluggard  intellect  of  this  continent  will  look  from  under  its  iron 
lids  and  fill  the  postponed  expectation  of  the  world  with  something  better 
than  the  exertions  of  mechanical  skill.  Our  day  of  dependence,  and  long 
apprenticeship  to  the  learning  of  other  lands  draws  to  a  close.  The  multi 
tudes  around  us  that  are  rushing  into  life  cannot  always  be  fed  on  the  sere 
remains  of  foreign  harvests.  Events,  actions,  arise  that  must  be  sung,  that 
will  sing  themselves."  Lowell  says:  "We  were  socially  and  intellectually 
moored  to  English  thought,  till  Emerson  cut  the  cable."  The  transcen 
dental  movement  was  in  effect  a  declaration  of  intellectual  independence. 
But,  after  all,  the  revolt  was  virtually  confined  to  New  England.  The 
distinctively  and  consciously  American  literature  that  resulted  was  almost 
entirely  New  England  literature.  It  was  produced  by  Emerson,  Long 
fellow,  Bryant,  Whittier,  Lowell,  Thoreau,  Motley,  Prescott,  Bancroft, 
Hawthorne,  Parkman,  Mrs.  Stowe. 

This  literature  and  the  intellectual  impulse  which  it  voiced  originated 
before  the  era  of  increased  immigration,  and  the  great  westward  movement 
and  dispersion  of  population.  An  inevitable  result  of  the  furious  struggle 
for  wealth,  and  of  the  influx  of  inferior  population,  from  which  New  Eng 
land  suffered  in  common  with  the  remainder  of  the  country,  from  about  the 
year  1850,  was  a  lowering  of  intellectual  and  moral  levels.  But  this  was 
not  the  only  cause,  perhaps  not  the  principal  cause,  of  the  cessation  or  sub 
sidence  of  the  transcendental  movement.  Doubtless  its  own  excesses  and 
extravagances  had  something  to  do  with  it,  but  the  westward  movement 
had  more.  Of  the  fifteen  or  sixteen  millions  of  the  descendants  of  the 
Puritans,  comparatively  few  remain  in  New  England.  'The  body  of  the 
New  England  population,  and  of  New  England  thought,  was  no  longer 
compact,  but  diffused  over  all  the  North  and  Northwest.  But  now  the 
West  is  conquered.  We  have  possessed  the  land  from  the  Atlantic  to  the 
summer  seas,  and  there  are  signs  of  a  refluent  current  of  population  east 
ward.  We  have  outgrown  our  prejudices  and  our  sectional  politics,  and 
our  war  against  a  foreign  foe  caused  a  revival  of  fraternity  and  patriotism. 
It  does  not  need  a  gift  of  prophesy  to  foretell  what  must  follow.  We  shall 
have,  we  are  having  already,  another  revival  of  learning,  another  movement 
forward  in  intellect  and  in  morals,  but  it  is  national  and  not  sectional  or 

15 


226  LITERATURE   AND   LIFE  OF   A   PEOPLE 

local.  In  every  State  of  the  Union  historical  investigation  is  enthusiasti 
cally  pursued.  Tremendous  summer  schools  attest  and  promote  a  perva 
sive  and  resistless  enthusiasm  for  education.  Every  section  teems  with 
writers  of  more  or  less  merit,  and  there  is  abounding  evidence  of  a  general 
intellectual  and  literary  awakening.  We  are  on  the  eve  of  a  national  tran 
scendental  movement. 

We  behold  then  a  great  nation,  a  republic,  surpassing  in  actual  and 
tried  institutions  the  ideals  and  dreams  of  the  lovers  of  liberty  and  mankind 
in  former  ages;  possessing  a  domain  of  unequalled  extent  and  richness, 
with  a  population  drawn  from  every  family  of  Christian  men,  but  domi 
nated  by  the  race  which  has  accomplished  the  greatest  and  the  most  benefi 
cent  results  in  modern  times.  Opportunity  and  promise  of  all  high  things 
irradiate  our  future. 

From  these  large  generalizations  let  us  descend  to  a  few  particulars. 

In  literature  there  was  a  few  years  ago  a  serious  threat  of  degeneracy. 
It  has  been  true,  always,  that  really  meritorious  writers  of  this  country 
have  been  clean.  The  danger  arose  mainly  from  an  inordinate  increase  of 
fiction.  Among  the  thousands  of  living  American  writers,  we  have  at  most, 
three  or  four  poets  worthy  of  the  name.  Imaginative  writing  has 
taken  almost  exclusively  the  form  of  prose  fiction.  The  novelists  say  that 
this  is  the  dominant  and  the  final  form  of  literary  expression.  For  three 
hundred  years  we  have  been  writing  novels.  The  English  novel  has  been 
chaste;  but  even  so  clean  and  reputable  a  writer  as  Thackeray  chafed 
under  the  salutary  restrictions  imposed  by  English  taste  and  decency.  As 
novels  multiplied  it  became  difficult  to  find  new  subjects,  or  even  new 
treatments.  This  caused  entirely  respectable  novel  writers,  over-esti 
mating  the  importance  of  their  calling  and  of  themselves  to  clamor  for 
what  they  called  the  "French  freedom."  Two  other  kindred  causes  con 
curred  to  strengthen  the  sentiment.  Our  foreign  population  being  com 
paratively  inferior,  intellectually  and  morally,  and  imperfect  education 
being  one  of  our  national  misfortunes,  a  general  lowering  of  standards 
made  it  possible  for  many  producers  of  literary  trash  to  market  their 
wares.  And  so  we  had  an  excessive  demand  for  fiction,  and  a  large  inferior 
reading  public  tolerating  inferior  and  unclean  books.  Most  dangerous 
was  the  influence  of  the  French  realistic  and  erotic  novelists. 

I  think  also  that  the  Tolstoi  furore  had  much  to  do  with  the  sudden  out 
pouring  of  filthy  books  in  this  country  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago.     At  all 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE  227 

events  the  abomination  existed,  and  even  now  our  news  stands  glare  with 
the  gaudy  covers  of  French  reprints,  and  worse,  American  imitations. 
The  Latins  are  capable  of  a  refined  decency,  but  the  indecency  of  the 
Saxon  is  always  gross  and  intolerable.  Products  of  this  condition  were 
many,  but  not  worthy  of  mention.  Decent  men  protested,  but  the  fictionists 
cried  in  return:  "Art!"  They  quoted  Goethe  as  saying  that  art  must  be 
esteemed  for  art's  sake  only.  They  declared  that  the  French  did  such 
things  best,  that  ignorance  was  not  innocence,  and  much  more  of  the  same 
sort.  The  unclean  writers  make,  or  pretend  to  make,  a  fetich  of  art.  They 
affirm  that  the  one  thing  most  desirable  is  candor.  A  desire  for  candor 
incited  Thackeray  to  a  threat  of  rebellion,  and  later  induced  Thomas 
Hardy,  one  of  the  foremost  contemporary  novelists,  to  write  some  hun 
dreds  of  pages  of  repulsive  Anglo-Saxon  imitation  of  the  French.  No 
sooner  had  Mr.  Hardy  manifested  his  willingness  to  be  grossly  sensational 
and  imitative  than  the  critics  opened  a  grand  chorus  of  praise.  Mr. 
Hardy  had  declared  for  art,  and  had  risen  to  candor.  At  once  he  became 
the  rival  of  the  illustrious  esoteric,  obscurely  profound,  and  unspeakably 
tiresome  nominee  of  the  critics  for  the  first  place  in  contemporary  fiction, 
George  Meredith.  The  magnificent  paradox  of  declaring  pure  a  heroine 
who  manifested  the  most  pitiable  weakness  and  a  persistent  impurity 
aroused  the  makers  of  cheap  fiction,  and  many  critics  to  a  frenzy  of  appro 
bation.  At  last  the  English  novel  had  declared  its  independence  of  the 
school  misses,  and  we  were  to  have  Balzacs  and  Zolas  of  our  own. 

An  apparently  strong  sentiment  in  America  welcomed  the  new 
dispensation;  but  while  we  have  had  no  Jeremy  Collier,  as  they  had 
in  England  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  the  common  sense  of  the 
people  seems  to  have  prevailed.  We  do  not  wish  our  sons  and 
daughters  to  associate  in  actual  life  with  roues  and  courtesans,  and  we 
would  deny  them  the  more  intimate  association  with  these  classes  in  books. 
If  novels  were  addressed  only  to  the  elect,  the  novelists  and  the  critics, 
we  might  have  less  reason  to  demand  that  they  be  clean  and  wholesome; 
but  they  reach  all  classes.  The  young  people  of  this  country  are  probably 
the  largest  consumers  of  fiction  in  the  world.  Therefore,  if  we  are  to  have 
French  candor  we  may  confidently  expect  Parisian  morals.  Indeed,  as 
life  makes  literature,  we  must  have  the  morals  before  we  can  have  the  candor. 
If  we  must  follow  Mr.  Hardy  in  his  later  ventures,  we  should  first  institute 
schools  for  the  promotion  of  immorality,  morbid  sentimentalism,  and  absurd 
ity.  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  the  belief,  despite  the  critics,  that  ignorance 


228  LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE 

is  innocence.  I  find  the  sophistication  of  the  Greeks  associated  with  un 
speakable  immoralities,  and  fail  to  see  wherein  Babylonian  morals  were 
improved  by  the  general  knowledge  of  subjects  that  we  forbid.  The 
decadence  of  the  Roman  Empire  was  conspicuous  for  candor,  and  the 
courts  of  Louis  XIV.,  Louis  XV.,  and  Charles  II.,  were  models  of  candor 
and  sophistication.  Paris,  from  which  New  York  and  Chicago  import  so 
many  improvements  in  the  vices,  is  a  very  Pharos  of  candor. 

For  my  part,  I  unblushingly  place  myself  among  the  unprogressives,  the 
reactionaries,  the  unenlightened,  who  refuse  to  bow  down  to  the  god,  Art.  1^ 
would  not  stultify  myself  by  attempting  to  disparage  art,  but  I  place  morals, 
religion,  above  art,  and  affirm  that  the  aims  of  art,  and  of  everything  else, 
should  be  moral.  Moreover,  I  deny  that  unchastity  furnishes  the  highest 
opportunities  for  art.  The  critics  and  the  novelists  bow  themselves  to  the 
earth  when  the  mighty  name  of  Balzac  is  sounded.  Because  the  French  writer 
revels  in  immoralities  and  indecencies  whenever  he  chooses  to  do  so,  he  is  the 
incomparable,  unapproached  exponent  of  human  nature.  I  agree  with  John 
Ruskin  that  the  finest  and  deepest  insight  into  human  nature  manifest  in 
literature  is  in  Shakespeare's  plays,  and  the  next  in  Walter  Scott's  novels  of 
modern  Scotch  life.  I  do  not  admit  that  Balzac,  whose  genius  all  men 
admire,  wrote  anything  superior  to  the  "Antiquary,"  "Guy  Mannering," 
"Waverly,"  "Rob  Roy"  or  "The  Heart  of  Midlothian."  I  do  not  believe 
that  Balzac  had  a  finer  genius  or  was  a  greater  novelist  than  Scott,  or 
Thackeray,  or  George  Eliot.  No  language  furnishes  a  novel  that  in  pure 
artistic  merit  approaches  Thackeray's  "Henry  Esmond."  I  hail  with  delight 
the  abounding  evidences  of  reaction  from  the  morbid  sentimentalism,  which 
appeared  a  few  years  ago,  and  am  happy  in  the  belief  that  this  country  of 
homes,  of  honorable  men  and  pure  women,  will  have  a  clean  and  chaste 
literature;  that  it  will  neither  be  Cyprian,  Babylonian  nor  Parisian. 

In  poetry  the  end  of  the  century  tendencies  have  not  yet  entirely  pre 
vailed.  There  are  many  who  persist  in  admiring  Homer,  Shakespeare, 
Dante,  Chaucer,  and  so  abject  a  slave  of  rhyme  and  meter  as  Robert 
Burns,  even  in  an  age  illuminated  and  glorified  by  the  transcendent  genius 
of  Whitman.  It  may  be  that  in  the  golden  future  of  poetry  and  of  art, 
whose  advent  is  so  enthusiastically  proclaimed,  we  shall  reach  and  grasp 
the  final  and  crowning  conception  that  the  chief  end  of  poetry  is 
obscurity  without  rhyme  or  meter,  but  I  am  of  the  deplorable 
company  of  the  unilluminated  who  grope,  as  yet,  in  outer  darkness. 
It  may  be  that  we  are  confused  by  the  blinding  radiance  of  the  new 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF  A    PEOPLE  22Q 

lights  of  belief  and  of  criticism  which  burst  upon  us  from  many  quarters; 
but,  holding  our  minds  ever  open  to  "new  influxes  of  light  and  power"  and 
doingour  best  in  the  places  in  which  our  duty  falls,  we  may  hope  that  in  the  end 
we  too  may  see  the  truth  in  its  glory  and  beauty;  or,  if  not,  we  must  be  con 
tent  to  have  done  our  best  without  envy  of  our  brothers  and  sisters  who, 
more  gifted  or  better  fated  than  we,  shall  be  numbered  among  the  elect. 
A  most  encouraging  fact  is  the  unmistakable  reaction  from  a  hasty  and 
shallow  skepticism.  Men  of  my  age  came  into  active  life  in  the  midst  of 
the  materialist  movement.  Without  attempting  to  go  far  into  this  tre 
mendous  subject,  I  beg  to  offer  a  few  suggestions : 

Beyond  question  the  man  who  most  profoundly  influenced  the  thought 
of  the  second  and  third  quarters  of  the  last  century  was  Charles  Darwin. 
After  him  came  a  host  of  disciples.  The  new  discoveries,  the  new  theories, 
quickly  mastered  the  greater  part  of  the  scientific  world.  The  utter  and 
irremediable  confounding  of  Christianity  was  clearly  at  hand.  If  the 
doctrine  of  natural  selection  were  true,  and  Darwin  had  proved  it  true, 
then  Christianity  had  no  standing  ground.  Well  do  I  remember  that  in 
my  college  days  Darwinism  and  materialism  were  the  fashion,  more  par 
ticularly  among  those  who  knew  least  about  them.  We  discussed  natural 
selection  and  the  origin  of  the  universe,  bestowing  special  favor  upon  the 
nebular  hypothesis,  which  admitted  much  nebulous  knowledge.  We  read 
Huxley  some,  and  Tyndall  more;  we  marvelled  at,  and  many  times  mouthed 
that  daring  declaration  in  Tyndall's  Belfast  address:  "I  behold  in  matter 
the  promise  and  the  potency  of  every  form  and  quality  of  life." 

Herbert  Spencer's  monumental  work  had  not  then  progressed  far,  but 
we  got  the  "First  Principles,"  and  some  of  us  read  it,  or  part  of  it,  and 
filled  our  conversations  and  orations  with  its  ponderous  words  and  phrases: 
"Evolution,  integration,  concomitant,  disintegration,  homogeneity,  and 
heterogeneity."  Some  fell  upon  Harriet  Martineau's  abridgement  of  the 
"Positive  Philosophy,"  and  burdened  themselves  with  its  massive  ter 
minology,  its  "social  statics  and  dynamics."  But  there  were  two  other 
writers  who  were  easily  first  and  second  favorites.  The  lesser  favorite 
was  Buckle,  the  greater  John  W.  Draper.  In  my  day  in  college  Draper's 
charmingly  written  one-sided  books,  with  their  bold  assertion  of  infalli 
bility,  were  tremendous  makers  of  quick  and  defiant  opinion.  Many 
of  us  were  obstreperously  skeptical  and  magnificently  intolerant  of  the 
effete  superstitions  of  the  Church  and  of  the  childish  absurdities  of  the  Bible. 
Twenty-five  years  ago  the  universities  were  turning  out  almost  nothing 


230  LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE 

but  agnostics  and  materialists.  But  now  things  are  changed.  There  is 
hardly  a  Church  in  America  that  is  not  more  prosperous,  active  and  aggres 
sive  than  ever  before.  There  is  a  widespread  and  positive  reaction,  a  re 
jection  of  the  half  truths  that  were  at  first  readily  accepted  and  confidently 
declared  to  be  final.  A  majority  of  the  young  gentlemen  in  the  colleges 
are  now  tolerant  of  the  Deity.  That  we  grossly  overvalued  the  assertions 
and  dogmas  of  the  materialists  and  evolutionists  is  clear. 

Omitting  for  want  of  time  much  that  I  would  be  glad  to  say,  I  ask  your 
attention  for  a  moment  to  our  own  section  of  the  United  States.  The 
Spanish  War  removed  many  of  the  difficulties  and  misunderstandings  from 
which  the  South  had  suffered,  but  in  some  respects  the  relief  may  be  only 
temporary.  Sectionalism  cannot  survive  recent  events,  but  a  patriotic 
renaissance  is  not  a  political  and  social  panacea.  We  have  com 
plained  that  our  northern  neighbors  have  not  understood  us.  Proba 
bly  a  difficulty  not  less  serious  is  that  we  have  not  understood  ourselves. 
Prevented  by  many  causes  from  having  a  literature  of  our  own,  we 
suffered  long  and  fretted  under  the  fact  that  the  literature  of  the  North 
was  unfriendly  to  us.  When  we  began  to  write  about  ourselves,  after  the 
Civil  War,  it  was  in  a  spirit  of  self-commiseration  and  self-laudation.  Natu 
rally  enough  and  truly  enough,  we  glorified  the  gallant  soldiers  of  the  Con 
federacy,  regretted  our  lost  wealth,  and  sighed  for  our  vanished  old-time 
civilization.  Our  own  writings  asserted  for  us  perfection  and  martyrdom. 
The  North  was  unsympathetic,  harshly  critical,  and  wrote  and  bought 
nearly  all  the  books,  and  presently  we  began  to  be  critical  of  ourselves.  A 
few  of  us,  to  please  the  North,  and  to  win  popularity  for  our  books,  others 
from  honest  conviction,  began  to  say  uncomplimentary  things  about  the 
South  of  the  past  and  of  the  present.  It  was  demonstrated  then  that  our 
nerves  had  not  recovered  their  tone.  We  could  not  endure  the  mildest 
criticism.  Frequently  we  were  intolerant  of  the  indisputable  truth.  We 
manifested  in  higher  degree  a  resentment  like  that  which  was  aroused  in 
this  country  when  Dickens  exaggerated  our  newness,  our  roughness,  and 
our  expectoration. 

The  truth  is  that  the  writers,  North  and  South,  have  been  extremists. 
Sentiment  is  prone  to  excess,  and  the  critical  faculty  is  hard  to  keep  within 
bounds,  being  an  unruly  capacity  and  generally  accompanying  a  combative 
and  persistent  temperament.  The  advice  given  the  temporary  but  aspiring 
young  driver  of  Appollo's  chariot  is  suited  to  the  case:  "In  medio  tutissimus 
ibis."  Senator  Lodge  represents  one  extreme  when  he  makes  old  Virginia 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE  23 1 

the  dreary  and  slovenly  abode  of  indolence,  horse-racing,  wine-bibbing, 
and  cock-fighting.  Equally  one-sided  are  many  of  our  Southern  writers, 
who  see  nothing  of  the  horsy,  gambling,  deep-drinking  planters  that  absorb 
Mr.  Lodge's  attention,  or  of  anything  else  unpleasant,  but  only  the  Bever- 
leys,  the  Birds,  the  Tuckers,  and  the  Lees;  fine  ladies  and  fine  gentlemen; 
gallants  in  flowing  wigs  and  spreading  ruffles,  patrician  dames  and  dainty 
damosels  rustling  in  silks,  rigid  in  brocades,  broad-hooped,  stately  and 
imposing,  walking  minuets.  From  our  point  of  view  only  the  good  was 
visible.  We  idealized  the  South.  Because  a  few  hundred  cavaliers,  a 
sprinkling,  came  to  this  country  after  the  death  of  Charles  I.,  sometimes 
called  King  Charles,  the  martyr,  we  said  much  of  cavalier  blood  and  chivalry. 
There  were  cavaliers,  many  of  them  in  the  old  South,  knightly,  gallant, 
noble  gentlemen.  In  the  main  the  Southern  people  were,  even  in  Vir 
ginia,  plain,  honest,  patriotic,  middle  class  folk.  The  cavalier  element 
was  concentrated  largely  in  Virginia,  and  the  essentially  democratic  so 
ciety  of  that  commonwealth  exhibited  certain  aristocratic  and  necessarily 
temporary  features.  Virginia  was  the  foremost  of  the  Southern  Colo 
nies,  and  was  long  the  foremost  Southern  State.  From  Virginia 
a  greater  part  of  the  settlers  of  the  Southwest  were  drawn.  Virginia 
institutions  were  set  up  first  and  persist  still  in  all  the  Southern 
States  except  Louisiana.  The  South  was  from  the  first  mainly  Virginian, 
that  is  English.  This  is  hardly  less  true  ethnically  than  politically.  Next 
to  England  herself  the  Southern  States  are  the  most  Anglo-Saxon  part 
of  the  earth.  The  South  has  experienced  almost  none  of  the  inevitably 
bad  results  that  followed  indiscriminate  immigration.  She  is,  as  she 
ought  to  be,  conservative. 

Let  us  not  be  in  great  haste  to  develop.  Why  not  patiently  await 
natural  growth,  instead  of  incessantly  bidding  for  immigration.  The 
natural  attractions  of  the  South  will  draw  in  due  time  the  best  class  of 
immigrants  and  insure  a  sound  and  normal  development.  We  receive 
many  excellent  people  from  the  North  and  from  the  West  as  it  is.  In  due 
time  we  shall  certainly  see  the  cotton  factories  beside  the  cotton  fields,  and 
the  iron  furnaces  beside  the  iron  mines  and  the  coal  mines.  The  myriad 
streams  that  now  flow  unchecked  to  the  sea  will  furnish  water  power  to 
countless  manufactories.  The  steady  labor  of  the  South  will  attract  capital, 
and  the  mild  winters  will  never  stop  the  mill  wheels. 

I  am  fond  of  using  certain  sayings  of  Charles  Dudley  Warner  in  regard 
to  the  South.  One  of  them  is  as  follows:  "Will  it  not  be  strange,  said  a 


232  LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE 

distinguished  Biblical  scholar,  and  an  old  time  anti-slave  radical,  if  we 
have  to  depend  after  all  upon  the  orthodox  conservatism  of  the  South? 
For  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  Southern  pulpit  holds  still  the  traditions  of 
the  old  theology,  and  the  mass  of  Southern  Christians  are  still  undisturbed 
by  doubts.        .....         There  remains  a  great  mass  of 

sound  and  simple  faith." 

There  are  so  many  new  things  now  that  one  longs  for  something  old. 
But  after  all,  if  we  could  only  see  it,  many  of  these  new  things,  especially 
in  the  world  of  thought  and  of  letters,  are  really  old  things,  tricked  out  in 
new  and  often  fantastic  vestments.  This  oppressive  newness,  this  univer 
sal  and  insatiable  progressiveness,  has  not  yet  pervaded  the  South,  but 
numerous  positive  manifestations  of  it  are  to  be  found  here.  It  is  true 
that  we  have  much  of  "sound  and  simple  faith,"  but  there  are  indications 
that  we  are  entering  upon  a  condition  not  unlike  that  of  New  England  at 
the  beginning  of  the  transcendental  movement,  and  for  identical  reasons. 
We  are  at  the  beginning  of  a  transcendental  movement  of  our  own,  in 
common  with  the  remainder  of  the  country.  We  are  just  awakening  to 
active  and  independent  intellectual  and  literary  life.  In  our  first  flights 
we  are  unsteady  and  erratic.  Some  of  my  friends  profess  an  aggressive 
socialism;  others  have  become  positivists;  certain  aesthetic  and  easy  re 
ligions  have  invaded,  feebly,  the  once  orthodox  recesses  of  our  mountains; 
theories  of  education  of  the  most  impossible  character,  and  of  the  most 
formidable  names,  abound;  there  is  a  passion  for  writing  for  the  news 
papers,  and  otherwise  getting  into  them,  and  a  growing  contempt  for  men 
on  the  part  of  women  who  can  not  get  husbands;  progress  is  the  word  of 
the  time,  and  to  the  progressives,  everything  new  is  ipso  facto  good,  and 
everything  old  is  bad.  These,  however,  are  surface  manifestations,  dis 
orders,  always  attendant  upon  the  stage  of  intellectual  expansion  which  we 
have  reached.  I  can  not  refrain  from  quoting  Lowell's  account  of  the 
closely  corresponding  period  in  the  New  England  revival  of  letters: 

"Ecce  nunc  tempus  acceptable  was  shouted  on  all  hands,  with  every 
variety  of  emphasis,  and  by  voices  of  every  conceivable  pitch,  representing 
the  three  sexes  of  men,  women  and  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagues. 
The  nameless  eagle  of  the  tree  Ygdrasyl  was  about  to  set  at  last,  and  wild- 
eyed  enthusiasts  rushed  from  all  sides  to  place  under  the  mystic  bird  that 
chalk  egg  from  which  the  new  and  fairer  creation  was  to  be  hatched  in  due 
time.  Every  form  of  intellectual  and  physical  dyspepsia  brought  forth  its 
gospel.  Bran  had  its  prophets,  and  the  pre-sartorial  simplicity  of  Adam 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF   A   PEOPLE  233 

its  martyrs Plainness  of  speech  was  carried  to  a 

pitch  that  would  have  taken  away  the  breath  of  George  Fox;  and  even 
swearing  had  its  evangelists  who  answered  a  simple  inquiry  about  their 
health  with  an  elaborate  ingenuity  of  imprecation  that  might  have  been 
honorably  mentioned  by  Marlborough  in  general  orders.  Everybody  had 
a  mission  (with  a  capital  M)  to  attend  to  everybody  else's  business.  No 
brain  but  had  its  private  maggot,  which  must  have  found  pitiably  short 
commons  sometimes.  Not  a  few  impecunious  zealots  abjured  the  use  of 
money  (unless  earned  by  other  people),  professing  to  live  on  the  internal 
revenues  of  the  spirit.  Some  had  assurance  of  instant  millennium,  as  soon 
as  hooks  and  eyes  should  be  substituted  for  buttons.  Communities  were 
established  where  everything  was  to  be  common  but  common  sense.  Men 
renounced  their  old  gods,  and  hesitated  only  whether  to  bestow  their  fur- 
loughed  allegiance  on  Thor  or  Budh It  was  the  Pente 
cost  of  Shinar.  All  stood  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  reform  every 
thing  except  themselves." 

These  delightful  exaggerations,  abounding  in  truth,  apply  to  conditions 
that  are  now  beginning  to  appear  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  caused  as 
in  New  England,  by  a  new  and  unregulated  intellectual  activity.  Let  us 
hope  that  we  shall  profit  by  the  experience  of  New  England,  and  moderate 
the  natural  enthusiasm  of  reform. 


It  so  happens  that  we  are  with  more  or  less  justice  held  guilty  of  the  two 
civic  faults,  which  I  shall  call  the  most  dramatic,  furnishing  the  readiest 
and  easiest  material  to  the  novelist  and  the  declaimer,  namely  violence  and 
illiteracy.  I  do  not  undertake  here  to  discuss  the  subject  of  violence. 
I  have  believed  always  that  with  the  growth  of  population,  and  with  im 
proved  police  service,  crimes  of  violence  will  steadily  decrease.  The  ap 
parent  increase  of  disorders  of  this  class,  in  other  sections  of  late  years, 
appear  to  contradict  this  theory,  but  I  can  not  accept  these  facts  as  a  refu 
tation.  The  statistics  support  the  belief  as  applied  to  the  South,  and  I  am 
confident  that  its  correctness  will  be  demonstrated  eventually. 

As  to  illiteracy  we  must  accept  the  fact  that  the  ratio  is  greater  in  the 
South  than  in  the  North.  But  we  must  not  accept  all  the  inferences, 
which  are,  generally  speaking,  that  every  other  conceivable  form  of  in 
feriority  accompanies  illiteracy  and  attaches  to  illiterates  and  literates  alike. 

I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm  that  the  best  and  purest  social  conditions  in 
this  country  to-day  are  to  be  found  among  the  white  people  of  the  South. 


234  LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF  A   PEOPLE 

Mr.  Warner's  phrase  "orthodox  conservatism"  is  not  fanciful,  it  is  true  of 
religion  and  true  of  the  general  tone  of  society.  I  have  not  time  to  offer 
you  the  proofs,  but  for  the  present  must  content  myself  with  asserting  the 
fact.  We  are  the  American  part  of  Americans,  not  of  unmixed  blood,  but 
of  the  least  mixed,  and  with  many  generations  of  American  ancestry  be 
hind  us.  Probably  I  am  not  speaking  to  a  man  or  woman  whose  family 
was  not  represented  in  the  American  revolution.  We  hear  much  said  in 
praise  of  the  old  Southern  civilization,  in  all  of  which  I  concur,  but  it  is 
more  to  the  purpose,  and  is  perfectly  true,  to  say  that  at  this  present  time 
the  standards  and  the  practice  of  the  civic  and  of  the  personal  virtues  are 
higher  in  the  South  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  country;  that  upon  an 
average  we  have  the  best  men  and  the  best  women  leading  the  purest  and 
the  least  selfish  lives.  I  say  this  taking  into  account  the  lowering  of  the 
levels  that  illiteracy  must  be  allowed  to  produce. 

I  believe  also  that  there  is  more  of  contentment  and  of  rational  happi 
ness  here  than  elsewhere,  although  we  are  becoming  infected  with  the  great 
national  vice,  the  inordinate  desire  for  money.  We  have,  here  in  the  South, 
the  largest  body  of  genuinely  American  population  and  of  genuinely 
American  sentiment  that  exists  to-day,  that  is  to  say,  the  largest  body  of 
sound  and  clean  population  and  opinion  in  this  hemisphere. 

I  agree  with  the  distinguished  orator  and  educator  who  said  here,  that 
"to  be  sectional  is  to  be  absurd";  and  I  affirm  that  there  is  less  of  sectional 
feeling  here  than  elsewhere,  that  the  natural  generosity  of  the  Southern 
temperament  is  such  that  we  were  the  first  to  outgrow  the  bitterness  of 
civil  strife.  Such  qualities  in  men  as  demand  free  institutions  and  such 
virtues  as  those  institutions  foster  are  logically  and  necessarily  of  highest 
development  here,  because  we  are,  as  a  rule,  descended  from  men  who 
fought  for  and  established  our  liberties,  whose  faith  and  principles  come  to 
us  as  part  of  our  very  life,  through  five  generations  of  American  ancestors, 
and  from  whom  we  have  the  least  diluted  strain  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood, 
and  the  purest  Anglo-Saxon  American  traditions. 

Let  us  be  then  not  narrow,  provincial  or  sectional,  but  self-respecting 
and  properly  self-assertive,  admitting  our  faults,  but  without  cringing  or 
subserviency.  Let  us  stamp  out  illiteracy,  and  by  our  own  efforts,  by  our 
own  sacrifices,  if  necessary,  not  churlishly  rejecting  any  aid  that  may  be 
offered  us,  but  relying  on  ourselves  above  all,  knowing  the  certain  fact 
that  others  can  do  but  little,  while  we  can  do  whatsoever  we  will,  and 
must  do  whatever  is  needed. 


LITERATURE   AND   LIFE   OF  A   PEOPLE  235 

Individual  benevolence  can  amount  to  but  little  in  practical  aid.  It  may 
amount  to  much  in  sympathy  and  in  stimulation,  but  it  remains  true  that  the 
work  is  ours,  and  is  unavoidable,  that  the  duty  is  ours  and  is  imperative. 
I  trust  that  what  I  have  said  contains  no  suggestion  of  boastfulness  or 
sectional  narrowness,  nothing  of  recrimination  or  unkindness;  but  in  any 
event  we  owe  it  to  our  patriotic  and  God-fearing  fathers  and  mothers  of 
the  South  to  know  and  to  declare  that  they  have  bequeathed  to  us  the 
principles  and  the  substance  of  a  pure  faith  and  of  a  free  and  high  civility, 
and  to  ourselves  to  say  that  we  are  doing  our  best  to  be  worthy  of  our  heri 
tage. 


AN  EPIC  OF  THE  KNOXVILLE  BAR.* 

The  battle's  course  was  almost  run, 
And  Lindsay's  fight  seemed  fairly  won; 
John  Houk  had  made  his  final  play, 
And  Lindsay  too  had  had  his  say; 
The  fateful  hour  was  now  at  hand, 
Each  side  with  anxious  visage  scanned 
The  faces  of  the  Statesmen  great 
Whose  fiat  was  to  fix  their  fate. 

When  up  rose  Webb  of  the  Knoxville  Bar 

For  the  closing  act  of  the  wordy  war; 

His  front  was  bold,  his  eye  was  bright, 

All  flaming  with  the  battle  light; 

A  soldier  he  of  days  of  yore 

Under  the  flag  that  Forrest  bore. 

High  rang  his  voice  and  gave  command 

That  the  Knoxville  Bar  should  upright  stand. 

That  instant  rose  with  courage  bold 
Each  Knoxville  lawyer,  young  and  old; 
Their  Nestor  grave  was  in  the  front 
As  if  to  bear  the  battle's  brunt; 
There  Comfort  too  and  Johnny  Green 
On  towering  Washburn's  flanks  were  seen; 
And  Sammy  Shields  and  Willy  Wright 
Each,  eager,  straining  for  the  fight; 
And  Hugh  McClung  and  fearless  Carty 
Were  likewise  of  the  valiant  party. 

And  Sanford,  too,  and  Tully  R. 
Most  handsome  of  a  handsome  bar; 
Another  there,  who  did  not  stickle 
To  face  the  foe,  was  Wesley  Pickle. 
And  Junius  stood  and  Jimmie  too, 
All  ready  each  to  dare  and  do. 

Thus  did  our  bar  itself  align, 
When  stood  forth  Webb  with  bold  design, 
And  spoke  high  words  of  solemn  tone, 
And  bade  all  speak,  as  though  but  one. 


*Describing  an  incident  attending  the  contest  over  the  abolition  of  the  Second  Chancery  Divi 
sion,  wherein  Hon.  H.  B.  Lindsay  was  Chancellor,  occurring  before  the  Judiciary  Committee  at 
Nashville.  (  237  ) 


238  AN   EPIC  OF  THE  KNOXVILLE    BAR 

"My  friends,"  he  said,  "tell  who  you  are, 
And  then  declare  what  you  are  for." 
With  one  accord,  with  aspect  proud 
They  cried  in  chorus  sounding  loud: 
'  We  are,  we  are 
Of  the  Knoxville  Bar; 
We  are  for  Bart 
With  all  our  heart." 

Then  shone  with  pride  their  leader's  face, 
And  sprang  he  forward  a  single  pace, 
As  thus  the  bar  declared  its  choice. 
Then  clarion  like,  rang  out  his  voice; 
"My  comrades  brave,  speak  out  again, 
The  cause  of  right  still  dare  maintain, 
Say  whether,  then,  for  good  or  ill, 
Would  be  the  passage  of  this  bill." 

With  one  accord  they  loud  replied, 
While  the  leader  heard  with  kindling  pride 
"For  ill,  for  ill 

Would  work  the  bill, 
And  do  no  good 

It  surely  would." 

The  eagle  eye  of  the  leader  blazed, 
And  higher  still  his  voice  was  raised; 
Sounded  his  words  then  loud  and  plain 
In  every  nook  of  old  Tulane: 
"One  more  chorus  now,  dear  friends, 
Ere  this  irksome  warfare  ends; 
Do  we  in  Lindsay  still  believe, 
Or  aught  of  wrong  in  him  perceive?" 

These  words  he  spoke,  nor  silent  they; 
In  thundering  words  they  quick  obey. 
As  on  some  wild  and  rugged  shore 
The  sounding  waves  of  Ocean  roar, 
So  they  in  one  sonorous  cry 
Hurl  back  their  loud  and  deep  reply: 
"We  do  believe, 

Nor  wrong  perceive." 
"Enough,  you  braves,"  the  leader  said, 
And  sought  his  seat  with  stately  tread. 


AN   EPIC  OF  THE   KNOXVILLE   BAR  239 

Thus  stood  the  gallant  bar  that  day, 
And  firm  and  fixed  was  their  array, 
Within  the  walls  of  high  Tulane, 
As  Greeks  on  old  Cunaxa's  plain. 
Ne'er  Hector  did  on  Ilium's  strand 
Behold  a  braver,  nobler  band; 
Nor  Phillip's  son  of  Macedon 
E'er  hurl  such  solid  phalanx  on; 
Nor  Hellas  stauncher  patriots  see 
At  glorious  Thermopylae; 
Nor  Roman  legions  firmer  stand, 
Than  this  embattled  legal  band. 

And,  as  for  him  who  fearless  led, 
And  on  his  name  bright  luster  shed, 
None  since  the  days  of  Peleus'  son 
Has  deeds  of  nobler  daring  done; 
Nor  ever  yet  did  plumed  knight 
Spur  faster  to  the  deadly  fight. 

Oh,  soldiers  brave  and  chief  sublime, 
Your  names  shall  live  till  end  of  time — 
Shall,  "penned  by  poets  and  by  sages, 
Go  sounding  down  through  future  ages." 


April,   1899. 


CALHOUN  THE  STATESMAN. 

|N  the  a8th  day  of  December,  1837,  John  C.  Calhoun  offered  in 
the  United   States   Senate   the   following  resolution: 

I.  That  in  the  adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  the 
States  adopting  the  same  acted  severally,  as  free,  independent 
and  sovereign  States;  and  that  each  State  by  its  own  voluntary  assent 
entered  the  Union  with  a  view  to  its  increased  security  against  all  dan 
gers,  domestic  as  well  as  foreign,  and  the  more  perfect  and  secure  enjoy 
ment  of  its  advantages,  natural,  political  and  social. 

2.  In  delegating  a  portion  of  their  powers  to  be  exercised  by  the  Fed 
eral   Government,  the    States    retained    severally  the   exclusive  and  sole 
right  over  their  own  domestic    institutions  and  police  to  the  full  extent 
to  which  these  powers  were  not  thus  delegated,  and  are  alone  respon 
sible  for  them;  and  that  any  intermeddling  of  any  one  or  more  States, 
or  a   combination  of  their  citizens,  with  the   domestic  institutions   and 
police  of  the  others,  on  any  ground,  political,  moral  or  religious,  or  under 
any  pretext  whatsoever,  with  the  view  to  their  alteration  or  subversion, 
is  not  warranted  by  the  Constitution,  tending  to  endanger  the  domestic 
peace  and  tranquillity  of  the  States  interfered  with,  subversive    of  the 
objects  for  which  the  Constitution  was  formed  and  by  necessary  conse 
quence,  tending  to  weaken  and   destroy  the  Union  itself. 

3.  This  Government  was  instituted  and  adopted  by  the  several  States 
of  the  Union  as  a  common  agent  in  order  to  carry  into  effect  the  powers 
which  they  had  delegated  by  the  Constitution  for  their  mutual  security 
and  prosperity;  and  that  in  fulfillment  of  this  high  and  sacred  trust  this 
Government  is  bound  so  to  exercise  its  powers  as  not  to  interfere  with 
the  stability  and  security  of  the  domestic  institutions  of  the  States  that 
compose  this  Union,  and  that  it  is  the  solemn  duty  of  the  Government 
to  resist,  to  the  extent  of  its  Constitutional  power,  all  attempts  by  one 
portion  of  the  Union,  to  use  it  as  an  instrument  to  attack  the  domestic 
institutions  of  another  or  to  weaken  or  destroy  such  institutions. 

4.  That  domestic  slavery  as  it  exists  in  the  Southern  and  Western 
States  of  this  Union  composes  an  important  part  of  their  domestic  insti 
tutions,  inherited  from  their  ancestors  and  existing  at  the  adoption  of 
the  Constitution,  by  which  it  is  recognized  as  constituting  an  important 
element  in  the  apportionment  of  powers  among  the  States,  and  that  no 

16  ( 241 ) 


242  CALHOUN   THE   STATESMAN 

change  of  opinion  or  feeling  on  the  part  of  the  other  States  of  the  Union 
in  relation  to  it,  can  justify  them  or  their  citizens,  in  open  and  systematic 
attacks  thereon  with  the  view  to  its  overthrow;  and  that  all  such  attacks 
are  in  manifest  violation  of  the  mutual  and  solemn  pledge  to  protect 
and  defend  each  other,  given  by  the  States  respectively,  on  entering  into 
the  Constitutional  compact  which  formed  the  Union,  and  as  such  are 
a  manifest  breach  of  faith,  and  a  violation  of  the  most  solemn  obligations. 

5.  That  the  interference  by  the  citizens  of  any  of  the  States,  with 
the  view  to  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  this  District,  is  endangering  the 
rights  and  security  of  the  people  of  the  District;  and  that  any  act  or 
measure  of  Congress  designed  to  abolish  slavery  in  this  District  would 
be  a  violation  of  the  faith  implied  in  the  cessions  by  the  States  of  Virginia 
and  Maryland;  a  just  cause  of  alarm  to  the  people  of  the  slaveholding 
State,  and  have  a  direct  and  inevitable  tendency  to  disturb  and  endanger 
the  Union;  that  any  attempt  of  Congress  to  abolish  slavery  in  any  terri 
tory  of  the  United  States  in  which  it  exists  would  create  serious  alarm 
and  just  apprehension  in  the  States  sustaining  that  domestic  institution, 
would  be  a  violation  of  good  faith  toward  the  inhabitants  of  any  such 
territory  who  have  been  permitted  to  settle  with  and  hold  slaves  therein, 
because  the  people  of  any  such  territory  have  not  asked  for  the  aboli 
tion  of  slavery  therein,  and  because  when  any  such  territory  shall  be 
admitted  into  the  Union  as  a  State  the  people  thereof  will  be  entitled 
to  decide  that  question  exclusively  for  themselves. 

These  resolutions  were  all  adopted  by  the  Senate.  The  vote  on  the 
first  one  was  32  to  13,  on  the  second  31  to  9,  on  the  third  31  to  n,  on 
the  fourth  34  to  5,  and  on  the  fifth  36  to  8.  Mr.  Clay  voted  for  them 
and  Mr.  Webster  against  them.  (A.  H.  Stephens  i,  398.  et  seq.) 

The  opinion  that  the  Constitution  is  a  compact  which  is  of  mutual 
obligation  and  is  apparently  further  supported  by  high  authority, 
for  on  the  28th  of  June,  1851,  at  Capon  Springs  in  Virginia,  Mr.  Web 
ster  said  among  other  things:  "I  have  not  hesitated  to  say,  and  I  repeat, 
that  if  the  Northern  States  refuse,  wilfully  and  deliberately,  to  carry  into 
effect  that  part  of  the  Constitution  which  respects  the  restoration  of  fugi 
tive  slaves  and  Congress  provide  no  remedy,  the  South  would  no  longer 
be  bound  to  observe  the  compact.  A  bargain  cannot  be  broken  on  one 
side  and  still  bind  the  other."  (Stephens  i,  p.  405.) 

I  confess  I  cannot  see  why  this  last  terse  sentence  of  Webster's  is 
not  a  happy  and  favorable  summary  of  the  Calhoun  resolutions.  In 


CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN  243 

1833,  however,  Mr.  Webster  had  opposed  the  Calhoun  resolutions  of 
that  year  which  I  shall  quote  presently,  and  which  embodied  the  com 
pact  theory  in  slightly  different  form,  but  without  change  of  substance. 
Alexander  H.  Stephens  asserts,  and  in  a  measure  proves,  a  modification 
of  Mr.  Webster's  opinions  between  1833  and  1851.  But  we  must  not 
judge  men  by  disconnected  utterances,  and  I  do  not  believe  that  Webster 
ever  agreed  with  Calhoun  as  to  the  nature  of  the  Constitution. 

The  resolutions  of  1837,  which  I  have  quoted  above,  were  provoked 
by  the  slavery  agitation,  and  are  presented  as  the  best  summary,  that 
I  can  find,  of  Mr.  Calhoun's  doctrine  of  States'  rights  as  applied  to  the 
question  of  slavery  under  the  Constitution. 

In  1833  Calhoun  offered  the  following  resolutions,  which  express 
the  doctrine  as  applied  to  the  tariff  question  and  to  the  theory  of  nulli 
fication,  viz. : 

"Resolved,  That  the  people  of  the  several  States  composing  these  United 
States  are  united  as  parties  to  a  constitutional  compact,  to  which  the 
people  of  each  State  acceded,  as  a  separate  sovereign  community,  each 
binding  itself  by  its  own  particular  ratification;  and  that  the  Union, of 
which  the  said  compact  is  the  bond,  is  a  union  between  the  States  rati 
fying  the  same. 

Resolved,  That  the  people  of  the  several  States,  thus  united  by  the 
constitutional  compact  in  forming  that  instrument,  and  in  creating  a 
general  government  to  carry  into  effect  the  objects  for  which  they  were 
formed,  delegated  to  that  government  for  that  purpose  certain  definite 
powers,  to  be  exercised  jointly,  reserving,  at  the  same  time,  each  State 
to  itself,  the  residuary  mass  of  powers  to  be  exercised  by  its  own  sepa 
rate  government,  and  that  whenever  the  general  government  assumes 
the  exercise  of  powers  not  delegated  by  the  compact,  its  acts  are  unauthor 
ized,  and  are  of  no  effect;  and  that  the  same  government  is  not  made 
the  final  judge  of  the  powers  delegated  to  it,  since  that  would  make  its 
discretion,  and  not  the  constitution,  the  measure  of  its  powers;  but  that 
as  in  all  other  cases  of  compact  among  sovereign  parties  without  any 
common  judge,  each  has  an  equal  right  to  judge  for  itself,  as  well  of  the 
infraction  as  of  the  mode  and  measure  of  redress. 

Resolved,  That  the  assertions  that  the  people  of  the  United  States, 
taken  collectively  as  individuals,  are  now  or  ever  have  been  united  on 
the  principle  of  the  social  compact,  and,  as  such,  are  now  formed  into 
one  nation  or  people,  or  that  they  have  ever  been  so  united  in  any  one 


244  CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN 

stage  of  their  political  existence;  that  the  people  of  the  several  States 
composing  the  Union  have  not,  as  members  thereof,  retained  their  sov 
ereignty;  that  the  allegiance  of  their  citizens  has  been  transferred  to  the 
general  government;  that  they  have  parted  with  the  right  of  punishing 
treason  through  their  respective  State  governments;  and  that  they  have 
not  the  right  of  judging  in  the  last  resort  as  to  the  extent  of  the  powers 
reserved,  and  of  consequence  of  those  delegated — are  not  only  without 
foundation  in  truth,  but  are  contrary  to  the  most  certain  and  plain  his 
torical  facts,  and  the  clearest  deductions  of  reason;  and  that  all  exercise 
of  power  on  the  part  of  the  general  government,  or  any  of  its  departments 
claiming  authority  from  such  erroneous  assumptions  must  of  necessity 
be  unconstitutional — must  tend  directly  and  inevitably  to  subvert  the 
sovereignty  of  the  States  to  destroy  the  federal  character  of  the  Union, 
and  to  rear  on  its  ruins  a  consolidated  government,  without  constitu 
tional  check  or  limitation,  and  which  must  necessarily  terminate  in  the 
loss  of  liberty  itself/' 

Of  these  resolutions  of  1833,  Mr.  Webster  said  truly,  for  conditions 
as  well  as  the  theory  supported  him:  "The  argument  arrives  at  once  at 
the  conclusion  that  what  a  State  dissents  from  it  may  nullify;  what  it 
opposes  it  may  oppose  by  force;  what  it  decides  for  itself  it  may  execute 
by  its  own  power;  and  that  in  short,  it  is,  itself,  supreme  over  the  legis 
lation  of  Congress,  supreme  over  the  decision  of  the  national  judicature, 
supreme  over  the  constitution  of  the  country,  supreme  over  the  supreme 
law  of  the  land." 

This  of  course  is  not  wholly  true,  for  the  resolutions  say  that:  "When 
ever  the  general  government  assumes  the  exercise  of  powers  not  delegated 
by  the  compact,  its  acts  are  unauthorized  and  are  of  no  effect."  The 
doctrine  of  nullification  is  not  applied  to  the  powers  which  are  delegated 
in  the  Constitution.  It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  there  is  room 
for  difference  as  to  what  powers  are  delegated.  On  this  occasion  Mr. 
Webster  further  said:  "The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  is  not  a 
league,  confederacy  or  compact  between  the  people  of  the  several 
States  in  their  sovereign  capacities;  but  a  government  proper,  founded 
on  the  adoption  of  the  people,  and  creating  a  direct  relation  between 
itself  and  individuals.  No  State  has  power  to  dissolve  these  relations; 
nothing  can  dissolve  them  but  revolution."  He  further  declared  nulli 
fication  to  be  unconstitutional  and  a  usurpation  of  the  powers  of  the 
general  government  and  of  the  equal  rights  of  the  other  States  amount- 


CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN  245 

ing  to  revolution;  that  in  cases  capable  of  assuming  the  character  of  a 
suit,  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  was  the  final  interpreter, 
and  that  in  other  cases  Congress  must  be  the  final  judge.  This  no  doubt 
expresses  the  real  and  final  position  of  Mr.  Webster,  despite  the  persua 
sive  arguments  to  the  contrary,  which  Stephens  bases  on  disconnected 
utterances  of  the  great  expounder.  And  this  is  substantially  the  result 
reached  by  the  Civil  War  and  now  universally  accepted  in  this  country. 

I  have  thus  given  in  brief  and  imperfect  outline  the  positions  of  the 
two  greatest  men  that  have  ever  appeared  in  the  United  States  Senate, 
upon  the  question  of  the  relative  powers  of  the  State  and  Federal  Gov 
ernment.  Into  the  arguments  which  they  repeatedly  made  I  cannot 
go  for  want  of  time,  and  it  is  not  desirable  that  I  should  do  so,  as  they 
are  no  doubt  familiar. 

I  wish  to  say  frankly,  that  in  the  light  of  the  resolution  passed  by 
State  Conventions  in  adopting  the  Constitution;  of  the  Virginia  and 
Kentucky  resolutions;  of  the  opinion  held  by  Jefferson;  of  the  attitude 
of  New  England  more  than  once  on  the  question  of  secession,  and  as  a 
matter  of  pure  logic,  the  palm  must  in  my  judgment  be  awarded  to  Cal- 
houn.  I  believe  that  in  the  resolutions  of  1837  he  correctly  expounded 
the  purposes  of  the  makers  of  the  constitution,  and  correctly  construed 
it  as  a  matter  of  pure  reason,  having  as  the  foundation  of  his  argument 
the  language  of  the  Constitution  and  the  circumstances  attending  its 
formation  and  adoption.  At  the  same  time,  so  far  as  the  question  of 
nullification  and  secession  are  concerned,  Webster  was  clearly  right  as 
to  what  ought  to  have  been  done.  Calhoun  in  1837,  but  not  in  1833, 
construed  the  Constitution  logically,  Webster  on  both  occasions  reason 
ably,  in  the  light  of  the  interests  and  necessities  of  the  Union  and  of  the 
States.  Calhoun's  logic  in  the  resolution  of  1837  was  irrefutable,  but 
Webster's  common  sense  was  irresistible.  Calhoun,  the  keenest  of 
reasoners,  was  able  to  support  nullification  by  a  complete  syllogism; 
but  I  do  not  believe  that  there  could  be  found  now  a  man  of  mature  age 
in  the  United  States  who  would  approve  the  theory.  It  may  have  been 
in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  makers  of  the  Constitution  that  a  State  could 
nullify  the  Acts  of  Congress,  and  still  remain  in  the  Union;  but  I  am 
not  convinced  that  there  were  such,  and  it  is  beyond  question  that  such 
procedure  would  be  incompatible  with  the  existence  of  the  Union.  The 
question  of  secession  was  an  open  one  until  it  was  closed  by  the  war. 
Calhoun  did  not  champion  secession,  but  his  arguments  for  States'  rights 


246  CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN 

were  the  main  props  of  the  theory.  The  body  of  the  general  doctrine 
was  sound.  It  is  the  accepted  theory  and  construction  of  the  Constitu 
tion  that  all  powers  not  conferred  expressly  or  by  necessary  implication 
upon  the  general  government  remain  in  the  States,  and  here  there  is 
debatable  land,  and  always  will  be.  The  exact  delimitation  of  Federal 
and  State  powers  is  an  impossibility  For  forty  years  and  more  there 
has  been  a  constant  tendency  to  enlarge  the  powers  of  the  Federal  Gov 
ernment.  Experience  and  reason  suggest  that  eventually  this  process 
will  go  too  far,  and  then  the  pendulum  will  swing  the  other  way.  New 
England  sought  to  minimize  the  federal  authority  when  she  believed 
the  federal  policy  to  be  inimical  to  her  commercial  interests;  and  later 
the  South  followed  and  greatly  exceeded  the  course  of  New  England. 
These  conditions  are  likely  to  recur.  We  shall  not  probably  have  any 
more  secession;  but  as  the  war  of  1812  pinched  New  England,  and  as 
the  tariff  and  the  attack  on  slavery  were  injurious  to  the  material  inter 
ests  of  the  South,  as  the  people  believed,  so  no  doubt  future  policies  will 
give  rise  to  similar  complaints,  and  as  the  newer  parts  of  the  country 
grow  and  seek  to  surpass  the  old,  and  as  the  federal  authorities  seek 
constantly  to  magnify  themselves,  I  doubt  not  that  we  shall  one  day  see 
the  sections  that  most  opposed  Calhoun  re-asserting  his  general  theory 
as  their  own,  and  as  their  own  safeguard.  As  to  secession,  I  cannot 
help  believing  that  the  logic  is  with  the  secessionists,  and  the  right  with 
their  antagonists.  I  cannot  believe  that  we  could  ever  have  become  a 
genuinely  great  people,  or  that  we  could  ever  have  felt  secure,  with  the 
right  of  peaceable  secession  as  an  accepted  part  of  our  constitutional 
jurisprudence.  So  long  as  the  doctrine  was  supported  by  a  large  minor 
ity  of  the  people,  there  was  constant  turmoil  and  fatal  sectional  division. 
The  question  demanded  settlement,  and  let  us  not  mistake  the  pur 
poses  of  the  great  men,  who  participated  in  the  struggle.  Everyone 
will  say  that  Mr.  Webster  was  a  patriot,  but  many  that  Calhoun  was  a 
very  Mephisto.  The  truth  is  that  one  was  as  sincere  and  as  truly  a  lover 
of  the  Union  as  the  other.  This  much  of  justice  is  done  Calhoun,  even 
by  Von  Hoist,  who  has  written  a  diatribe  against  Calhoun,  calling  it  with 
a  fine  audacity,  a  life  of  Calhoun.  Let  us  endeavor  to  deal  justly  with 
him.  We  can  see  now  that  it  was  possible  to  abolish  slavery  contrary 
to  established  law,  by  application  of  the  higher  law;  and  that  it  was  possi 
ble  to  have  a  war  and  for  the  North  to  be  victorious  over  the  South,  and 
to  restore  the  Union;  but  this  fact  remains  that  the  questions  between 


CALHOUN  THE   STATESMAN  247 

Calhoun  and  Webster,  taking  the  two  as  representative,  caused  the  war. 
Calhoun  saw  that  the  controversy  was  beset  with  gravest  danger.  Con 
stantly  before  his  mind  was  the  conviction  that  unless  the  aggression 
of  the  North  against  slavery  were  checked  disunion  was  the  sure  result. 
He  did  not  favor  disunion,  nor  seek  to  produce  it,  upon  the  contrary  he 
literally  gave  his  life  to  prevent  it.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  cause  of 
his  death  was  the  forty  years  of  strenuous  effort  which  he  made  for  the 
solution  of  a  problem  which  was  insoluble  save  by  appeal  to  the  sword. 
Two  things  impelled  him.  He  believed  that  the  South  was  right  and 
he  sought  to  find  a  cause  which  would  at  once  maintain  her  rights  and 
preserve  the  Union.  If  I  were  to  support  my  assertion  of  his  patriotism 
and  love  of  the  Union  by  quoting  Alexander  H.  Stephens,  the  soundest 
and  most  competent  champion  after  Calhoun  of  the  Southern  view  of 
secession,  it  might  have  no  effect  with  those  who  require  proof;  but  surely 
we  may  accept  the  judgment  of  Von  Hoist,  the  most  unfriendly  biographer 
that  ever  put  pen  upon  paper.  No  Court  refuses  to  accept  admissions 
against  interest.  This  most  learned  and  confident  foreigner  and  least 
sympathetic  of  biographers  says:  "That  he  honestly  and  ardently  wished 
the  preservation  of  the  Union,  is,  indeed,  as  certain  as  it  is  certain  that 
his  remedies  had  the  effect  of  sledge  hammer  strokes."  Referring  to 
the  war,  he  says  of  Calhoun:  "He  labored  to  the  last  with  the  intense 
anxiety  of  the  true  patriot  to  avert  the  fearful  calamity."  We  have  then, 
thus  far,  Calhoun's  own  statements  of  the  doctrine  of  State's  rights,  ap 
plied  to  the  two  great  subjects  of  nullification  and  of  slavery;  and  what 
ever  our  personal  judgments  of  his  doctrine  may  be,  we  have  as  strong 
testimony  of  his  good  faith  and  of  his  patriotic  purposes  as  could  be 
adduced.  Let  us  now  briefly,  as  the  limits  of  this  paper  require,  look 
to  the  salient  points  of  his  character  and  of  his  career. 

His  father  was  an  Irishman,  his  mother  the  daughter  of  a  Scotch-Irish 
Presbyterian,  the  daughter  of  a  preaching  Scotch-Irish  family.  His  own 
characteristics  were  Scotch.  His  intellect  was  strong,  clear,  incisive.  He 
had  the  highest  and  fullest  development  of  the  Scotch  capacity  for  logic. 
The  dominant  traits  of  his  character  were  sincerity,  intensity,  courage 
and  persistence.  As  a  speaker  he  was  too  much  in  earnest,  too  intense 
to  care  for  the  adornment  of  rhetoric.  His  diction  was  admirable  and 
effective.  It  lacked  the  rotundity  and  the  rhythm  of  Webster's  periods, 
and  he  had  none  of  the  moving  emotionalism  that  made  Clay  the  most 
pleasing  of  popular  orators.  He  was  a  reasoner,  devoted  supremely  to 


248  CALHOUN   THE    STATESMAN 

his  proposition,  uttering  it  in  the  fewest  strong  words  that  could  be  made 
to  express  it.  There  is  hardly  a  figure  of  speech  in  all  his  orations,  but 
at  the  same  time  there  is  hardly  an  error  of  grammar  or  of  rhetoric.  I 
heard  a  man  who  served  in  the  House  of  Representatives  while  Calhoun 
was  in  the  Senate  say  that  he  had  never  heard  anything  more  eloquent 
or  effective  than  Calhoun's  earnest  intense  utterances  of  the  word  "Sen 
ators"  in  one  of  his  impassioned  speeches.  He  was  not  widely  read, 
except  in  the  literature  of  government.  He  was  scrupulously  polite, 
always  fair,  apparently  austere  as  he  presented  himself  in  public,  but 
at  home  a  model  of  domestic  propriety,  virtue  and  amiability.  His 
personal  life  was  spotless,  and  attacks  upon  him  as  a  public  man  resulted 
only  in  the  confusion  of  his  accusers.  He  was  the  Covenanter  of  Amer 
ican  politics,  but  was  of  the  sweet  strain  of  the  Scotch-Irish,  not  of  the 
sour  and  hard  kind,  having  little  of  that  most  repellent  quality  of  one 
strain  of  the  blood,  which  Carlyle  characterizes  as  "sardonic  taciturnity," 
and  which  I,  a  Scotch-Irishman,  have  often  seen  exemplified.  A  sour 
Scotch-Irishman  or  woman  may  be  a  useful  and  excellent  creature,  but 
nature  produces  none  that  is  less  lovable. 

This  excellent  and  great  man  entered  Congress  in  1811  at  the  age  of 
twenty-nine.  This  was  the  time  of  the  agitation  that  preceded  and  produced 
the  War  of  1812.  Calhoun,  like  Clay,  was  an  advocate  of  the  war  and 
the  supporter  of  it  to  the  end.  At  this  time  the  great  issues  that  were 
soon  to  divide  the  people  were  not  formed.  It  is  said  with  a  view  to 
discrediting  Calhoun  that  he  was  at  first  the  friend  of  the  tariff  and  of 
internal  improvements.  That  this  is  true  generally  cannot  be  denied; 
but  the  particular  measures  which  he  advocated  were  not  studied  by 
any  at  that  time  with  reference  to  future  tendencies  and  results;  and  if 
we  concede  the  truth  of  Von  Hoist's  assertion  that  he  was  at  this  time  a 
nationalist,  it  is  not  a  fact  to  his  discredit.  Webster  changed  positions 
on  the  tariff  for  local  reasons,  Calhoun  changed  position  as  his  knowl 
edge  of  the  subjects  enlarged.  We  do  not  require  infallibility  and  pro 
phetic  foresight  of  men  except  when  we  are  their  unfriendly  critics.  Cal 
houn's  opinions  did  change  as  the  young  and  inexperienced  Congress 
man  grew  into  an  experienced,  a  more  learned,  a  wiser  statesman.  This 
has  been  true  of  many  others.  We  can  hardly  rely  upon  Napoleon's 
change  from  Republican  to  Imperialist;  but  nobody  doubts  that  changes 
of  place  by  Bismarck  and  by  Gladstone,  very  similar  to  Calhoun's  change, 
were  perfectly  honest  and  in  no  respect  discreditable. 


CALHOUN   THE    STATESMAN  249 

We  must,  in  order  to  judge  adequately  and  fairly,  have  these  facts 
always  in  mind  that  no  statesman  can  free  himself  from  local  influences, 
and  that  State  loyalty  and  patriotism  were  sentiments  which  in  the  early 
part  of  this  century  were  not  less  strong  and  esteemed,  not  less  honorable 
than  national  patriotism.  The  tendencies  and  the  actual  injustices 
of  tariff  legislation  first  evoked  from  Calhoun  the  enunciation  of  the 
doctrine  with  which  his  name  is  forever  identified.  At  present  I  do  not 
say  that  the  tariff  is  right  or  that  it  is  wrong,  as  a  matter  of  policy  or  of 
constitutional  construction.  But  that  the  tariff  of  1828  was  highly  ad 
vantageous  to  New  England,  and  equally  injurious  to  the  South,  hardly 
any  one  will  now  deny.  In  the  study  of  the  Constitution  at  that  time  and 
before  that  time,  Calhoun  reached  the  conclusions  which  were  set  out 
in  the  resolutions  of  1833  which  I  have  quoted.  That  he  honestly  enter 
tained  these  opinions,  no  one  has  ever  seriously  denied. 

As  the  anti-slavery  agitation  progressed,  it  became  apparent  to  Cal 
houn  that  this  same  doctrine  of  State  sovereignty  was  the  South's  only 
protection  against  what  he  honestly  believed  to  be  a  great  injustice.  He 
believed  that  the  Constitution  recognized  slavery  and  guaranteed  the 
right  of  slaveholding  in  all  parts  of  the  Union.  He  did  not  regard  slavery 
as  an  evil.  He  looked  upon  movements  against  it  as  invasions  of  the 
rights  of  the  slaveholders,  and  as  violative  of  the  Constitution,  and  he 
honestly  held  the  opinions  set  out  in  the  resolutions  quoted.  I  do  not 
care  to  say  that  he  was  right  or  that  he  was  wrong.  My  sole  purpose 
is  to  present  the  man  and  the  motives  of  his  conduct.  The  questions 
are  no  longer  open;  but  it  is  surely  worth  our  while  to  try  to  be  just  to 
a  man  whose  place  in  our  history  is  one  of  almost  unsurpassed  impor 
tance. 

To  prevent  this  great  injustice,  as  he  saw  it,  he  exerted  all  the  powers 
of  his  great  intellect.  Almost  alone  of  the  men  of  his  time  he  was  wise 
enough  and  far-sighted  enough  to  see  that  the  continuation  of  the  attacks 
upon  slavery  meant  war  between  the  sections.  He  was  actuated  there 
fore  by  the  two  desires,  first  to  preserve  the  Union,  and  second  to  pre 
serve  the  rights  of  the  South.  To  this  end  he  studied  the  Constitution; 
to  this  end  he  spoke,  and  wrote,  and  labored  unceasingly;  to  this  end  he 
gave  his  life.  He  sought  to  unite  Southern  Congressmen  without  regard 
to  party,  and  in  a  measure  succeeded.  He  called  upon  the  North  to 
put  down  by  law  the  constantly  recurring  attacks  upon  slavery,  and 
he  called  in  vain.  He  did  not  favor  the  war  with  Mexico,  because  he 


250  CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN 

apprehended  an  extension  of  our  territory  and  a  renewal  of  the  question 
of  allowing  slavery  therein. 

Personally  I  cannot  concede  that  slavery  was  right.  I  believe  it  was 
wrong,  and  I  am  heartily  glad  that  it  was  abolished.  It  was  of  service 
to  no  one  but  the  negroes.  Of  all  the  African  race  upon  the  earth,  none 
are  so  far  advanced  toward  civilization,  none  are  in  any  respect  so  well 
off  as  those  in  the  United  States.  It  was  an  unspeakable  misfortune 
to  us  that  we  brought  the  negroes  here;  but  it  was  a  blessing  to  them, 
as  things  have  turned  out.  But  Calhoun  and  his  contemporaries  of 
the  South,  as  a  rule,  saw  only  the  benefit  to  the  negroes,  and  the  indis 
putable  right  of  the  South  to  maintain  the  institution  of  slavery  under 
the  Constitution. 

We  must  not,  in  fairness,  hastily  or  lightly  judge  Calhoun  and  his 
followers.  Here  was  a  man  whose  intellectual  equal  has  not  appeared 
in  America  in  the  last  half  century,  a  righteous,  honest,  true  man,  of 
unsoiled  reputation.  The  South  was  solidly  behind  him;  the  North 
mobbed  Garrison.  Mr.  Lincoln  recognized  the  constitutional  right  of 
slavery  and  said  openly  that  he  would  tolerate  slavery,  if  by  so  doing  he 
could  preserve  the  Union.  In  the  Dred  Scott  case  the  Supreme  Court 
upheld  slavery  in  the  South,  and  Congress  passed  and  the  Courts  en 
forced  the  fugitive  slave  law,  which  we  have  heard  Mr.  Webster  approv 
ing.  Looking  back  I  see  my  Virginia  grandfather,  a  life-long  slave 
holder,  fifty  years  an  elder  of  the  church,  the  supporter  of  a  whole  com 
munity;  and  I  am  sure  that  in  a  better  world  than  this  he  enjoys  the  rich 
est  rewards  that  wait  on  saintly  living  and  doing.  And  so  we  have  mul 
titudes  of  good  men  upholding  slavery,  the  Constitution  permitting  and 
the  Courts  sustaining  it.  If  these  things  do  not  make  slavery  right, 
they  are  good  reasons  for  asserting  the  sincerity,  and  the  justice  of  the 
purest  and  certainly  not  the  least  able  of  American  statesmen.  To  me 
that  most  remarkable  and  comforting  fact  in  secular  history  is  the  re 
union  of  the  American  people,  and  the  re-establishment  of  the  Republic 
upon  foundations  which  nothing  can  shake  so  long  as  the  people  retain 
their  virtue.  This  marvelous  result  was  made  possible  by  the  fact  that 
each  section  has  at  least  recognized  and  admitted  the  sincerity  and  the 
good  faith  of  the  other. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  could  never  have  been  adopted 
even  by  the  Convention,  much  less  by  the  States,  but  for  the  compromise 
upon  the  subject  of  slavery.  When  the  Northwest  Territory  became 


CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN  251 

public  property,  slavery  within  its  limits  was  prohibited.  In  course  of 
time  many  States  adopted  laws  against  slavery.  The  Missouri  Com 
promise  forbade  it  in  a  part  of  the  territory  purchased  in  1803.  The 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  ultimately  declared  this  restriction 
unconstitutional.  The  situation  thus  created  could  not  last.  This 
question  of  slavery  could  not  be  forever  compromised.  Sooner  or  later 
a  direct  issue  was  inevitable.  From  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution 
two  different  and  antagonistic  schools  of  construction  existed.  These 
were  not  at  first  sectional.  We  have  during  the  War  of  1812,  Calhoun 
a  nationalist,  in  a  sense,  and  at  the  same  time  we  behold  New  England 
proclaiming  the  doctrine  of  States'  rights,  and  almost  in  the  very  arti 
cle  of  secession. 

Gradually  the  doctrine  of  strict  construction  and  of  States'  rights  found 
stronger  and  stronger  lodgment  in  the  South ;  and  as  the  antagonism  to  slavery 
grew  in  the  North,  the  South  found  in  them  her  only  refuge  from  assaults, 
which  were  supported  by  the  tendencies  of  the  time  and  the  moral  sense 
of  the  world,  but  which  were  in  plain  controvention  of  her  legal  rights. 
Thus  slavery  forced  the  test  of  the  question  of  States'  rights. 

Webster  did  not  persuade  the  South;  Hayne  and  Calhoun  did  not 
convince  the  North.  Congress,  recognizing  the  legal  warrant  for  the 
South's  position,  more  than  once  reluctantly  intervened  for  the  protec 
tion  of  slavery,  but  the  time  had  come  when  that  institution  could  no 
longer  exist.  The  conflict  was  in  very  truth  "irrepressible."  But  the 
Constitution  stood  between  the  abolitionists  and  their  end.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  better  to  say  that  the  Constitution  stood  between  slavery  and 
an  irresistible  moral  force,  because  the  abolitionists  were  to  the  last  an 
inconsiderable  company  of  violent  and  unreasonable,  albeit  very  right 
eous  men.  It  was  decreed  that  slavery  must  cease.  It  may  be  true 
that  if  extremists,  North  and  South,  Garrisons  and  Yanceys,  had  not 
precipitated  the  war,  peaceful  and  equitable  measures  would  have 
accomplished  the  result  of  abolition;  but  it  was  not  to  be  so.  And  even 
if  it  had  been  so,  the  great  underlying  question  of  the  right  of  secession 
would  not  have  been  settled.  And  so  after  all  the  sword  may  have  been 
the  best,  because  the  only  resort. 

In  the  terrible  tragedy  of  the  war  each  side  forgot  that  any  shadow 
of  right  was  with  the  other.  When  the  end  came,  the  Constitution  had 
been  construed.  The  question  of  secession  was  forever  at  rest,  and  slavery 
had  been  abolished,  not  by  law,  but  contrary  to  law,  yet  in  accord  with 


252  CALHOUN  THE    STATESMAN 

principles  greater  than  any  law  that  could  be  written,  and  in  such  manner 
that  he  whose  unconstitutional  fiat  wrought  the  change,  takes  his  place 
by  reason  of  it,  and  justly  among  the  greatest  benefactors  of  mankind. 
But  the  fact  to  which  I  direct  attention  is  that  the  great  constitutional 
question  involved  was  so  great,  and  so  beset  with  doubt,  that  the  blood 
iest  of  wars  was  the  only  possible  means  of  settling  it. 

The  mighty  intellects  of  Webster  and  of  Calhoun  could  not  solve  the 
problem.  The  lofty  patriotism  of  Clay  essayed  it  in  vain.  For  nearly 
half  a  century  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  was  the  most  .conspicuous 
forum  in  the  world  by  reason  of  the  great  debate  upon  this  question. 
The  orators  who  thundered  there  were  as  great  as  the  world  has  seen, 
the  intellects  that  contended  are  not  surpassed  in  the  armory  of  nations, 
the  patriotism  of  our  statesmen  of  both  factions  reflects  undying  honor 
on  our  name,  but  eloquence,  reason  and  patriotism  exerted  themselves 
in  vain.  Each  and  all  were  inadequate.  War  and  war  alone  could 
determine  the  question. 

When  we  remember  these  things,  and  the  titanic  and  heroic  struggle 
that  came  at  last,  shall  any  man  impeach  the  sincerity  or  the  patriotism 
of  either  section  or  any  statesman  who  championed  either  cause  in  the 
great  half  century's  debate  that  preceded  the  war?  Calhoun  was  the 
champion  of  the  cause  that  failed.  The  final  unappealable,  irrevocable 
decree  was  against  him.  He  fought  in  the  main,  I  verily  believe,  for 
the  Constitution  and  the  law  as  they  were  written;  but  he  fought  against 
destiny,  against  all  the  tendencies  of  the  age. 

Happily  the  American  people  already  begin,  at  least,  to  see  him  as 
he  really  was,  a  strong  man  of  mighty  intellect,  of  noble  aspirations,  of 
lofty  patriotism,  a  true  man,  a  great  man,  whose  name  will  shine  in  our 
history,  and  be  honored  so  long  as  the  republic  lives,  so  long  as  patriotism 
and  virtue  are  esteemed. 


TENNESSEE,  PAST  AND  PRESENT. 

DO  not  doubt  that  I  shall  commend  myself  to  this  audience,  by 
declaring  at  the  outset  the  fact  that  no  State  has  contributed 
more  generously  than  Tennessee  to  the  best  population  and 
therefore  to  the  welfare  of  other  States.  It  is  an  interesting 
and  pleasing  social  phenomenon  that  all  non-resident  Tennesseans  are 
persons  of  prominence.  Wherever  two  or  three  of  them  are  gathered 
together  they  manifest,  unfailingly,  a  patriotic  and  altruistic  readiness 
to  assume  the  burden  of  the  weightier  and  more  remunerative  business 
and  political  affairs  of  the  community.  The  high  purpose  and  the  lofty 
spirit  derived  from  an  honorable  ancestry  prompt  them  to  ready  partici 
pation  in  movements  of  reform,  affording  the  double  satisfaction  of  serv 
ing  the  public  directly,  and  themselves  incidentally. 

Almost  from  the  beginning  of  her  history,  Tennessee  has  been  a  dis 
tributing  point  of  valuable  population  for  the  Western,  and  more  espe 
cially  for  the  Southwestern  States.  When  Andrew  Jackson  carried  his 
army  of  Tennesseans  to  New  Orleans  perhaps  the  most  active  sup 
porter  of  our  cause  in  the  Mississippi  territory  was  William  Cocke,  who 
had  been  twice  United  States  Senator  from  Tennessee.  At  New  Orleans 
his  invaluable  assistant  was  W.  C.  C.  Claiborne,  a  former  Tennessee 
judge  and  congressman.  The  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the  one  regiment 
of  regulars  that  served  under  him  in  the  Creek  War  was  Thomas  H. 
Benton,  then  a  resident  of  Tennessee,  but  destined  to  become  the  fore 
most  man  in  the  great  State  of  Missouri;  while  an  ensign  in  the  same 
regiment  was  Sam  Houston,  who  was  to  become  Governor  of  Tennessee, 
and  later,  President  of  the  Republic  of  Texas.  Thus,  for  a  hundred 
years,  Tennessee  has  sent  out  continually  strong  men  who  have  affected 
powerfully  and  beneficially  the  social  and  political  development  of  neigh 
boring  States.  The  list  is  too  long  to  be  recited,  but  some  of  the  promi 
nent  names  now  in  it  are  Charles  K.  Bell,  Attorney  General  of  Texas; 
Judge  J.  M.  Dickinson,  of  Chicago,  who  won  renown  in  the  Alaskan 
Boundary  case;  Jeter  Pritchard,  of  North  Carolina,  Judge  of  the  United 
States  Circuit  Court;  the  venerable  John  H.  Reagan,  of  Texas;  the  not 
less  venerable  John  T.  Morgan,  of  Alabama;  and  Joseph  W.  Folk,  now 
Governor  of  Missouri,  and  looking  out  upon  a  future  beset  with  many 
perils,  but  withal  as  attractive  as  ever  stirred  ambition  in  the  heart  of 

( 253) 


254  TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT 

man.     May  all  good  angels  guard  him  on  his  way.     I  doubt  not  that  he 
will  continue  to  be — 

Statesman  and  friend  to  truth  of  soul  sincere, 

In  action  faithful  and  in  honor  clear, 

Who  breaks  no  promise,  serves  no  private  end. 

That  all  Tennesseans  do  not  achieve  the  highest  success  at  home 
is  obviously  due  to  the  fact  that  there  Tennessean  meets  Tennessean. 

My  own  section  of  the  State  has  a  reputation  for  astucity  which  is 
almost  excessive.  It  is  said  that  the  children  of  Israel  recognize,  though 
reluctantly  and  with  lamentation,  the  superior  commercial  genius  of 
the  native  East  Tennessean;  while  the  people  of  Atlanta  explain  the 
paucity  of  Jews  in  that  city  by  the  fact  that  the  East  Tennesseans  got 
there  first. 

Our  fore-fathers,  for  convenience,  divided  the  State  into  three  parts; 
and  later  generations  unwisely  have  continued  the  arrangement  which 
has  given  rise  to  unfortunate,  sometimes  absurd,  sectional  or  divisional 
sentiment.  Each  section  explains  this  rivalry  by  declaring  that  the 
people  of  the  others  are  different  in  kind  from  its  own.  The  real  expla 
nation  is  not  difference,  but  too  much  likeness.  The  dominant  trait  of 
all  alike  is  an  innate,  indomitable,  aggressive  and  defiant  independence, 
accompanied  usually  by  a  highly  developed  Scotch-Irish  acquisitiveness. 

I  do  not  know  a  Tennessean  who  admits  that  he  has  a  superior.  In 
dividual  liberty  is  not  a  phrase  in  Tennessee,  but  the  most  positive,  potent 
and  persistent  fact — occasionally  an  excessive  fact.  Tennessee  is  the 
most  intensely  democratic  community  in  existence.  Its  history  is  full  of 
great  achievements,  all  growing  out  of  the  invincible,  irrepressible  inde 
pendence  of  its  people.  We  had  a  republic  in  Tennessee  three  years 
before  the  battle  of  Lexington,  three  more  republics  before  the  adoption 
of  the  Federal  Constitution,  and  another  immediately  afterwards.  We 
became  a  State  and  elected  United  States  Senators  two  months  before  we 
were  admitted  to  the  Union. 

A  unique  manifestation  of  our  spirit  of  self-reliance  and  political 
centrifugence  was  in  1861,  when,  the  State  being  slow  to  join  the  South 
ern  Confederacy,  one  of  our  counties  seceded  and  declared  allegiance 
to  Alabama. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  has  remarked  upon  the  fact  that  while  in  Kentucky 


TENNESSEE,    PAST  AND   PRESENT  255 

and  other  Southern  States,  the  control  of  affairs  quickly  passed  from 
the  first  settlers  to  the  more  opulent  class  that  followed  them,  with  the 
result  of  giving  to  society  a  distinctly  aristocratic  quality;  such  was  not 
the  case  in  Tennessee.  Here  the  spirit  of  democracy  was  never  quenched. 
It  resisted  and  overcame  the  eminently  aristocratic  institution  of  slavery. 
Between  1850  and  1860,  Andrew  Johnson  served  two  terms  as  Governor, 
and  was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate.  He  was  not  only  of  obscure 
origin,  and  without  money  or  social  position,  but  was  the  constant  cham 
pion  of  the  common  people,  and  the  bitter  and  openly  denunciatory 
enemy  of  everything  that  savored  of  class  distinction. 

The  original  population  of  Tennessee  was  composed  of  the  hardy, 
self-reliant  pioneers  who  fought  their  way  from  the  Carolinas  and  Virginia 
into  the  Holston  Valley,  and  thence  to  the  Cumberland  before  the  end 
of  the  War  of  Independence,  and  of  the  Revolutionary  soldiers  of  North 
Carolina,  whom  that  State,  having  no  money,  paid  in  lands.  The  body 
of  our  present  population  is  descended  from  these  two  cognate  classes, 
from  whom  came  the  fighting  blood,  and  the  volunteer  spirit  of  the  State. 

When  our  fathers  broke  into  the  Union  in  1796,  they  carried  with 
them  a  Constitution  so  thoroughly  democratic  for  that  time,  as  to  elicit 
the  highest  praise  from  Mr.  Jefferson;  and  I  do  not  claim  too  much  when 
I  say  that  they  and  their  descendants  of  the  first  generation  led  the  way 
to  the  establishment  of  true  democracy  in  America.  Their  favorite 
pursuits  were  promulgating  declarations  of  independence  and  making 
governments  to  suit  themselves.  Along  with  this  intense  love  of  personal 
liberty  grew  up  an  equally  ardent  attachment  to  the  Union. 

The  State's  prominent  participation  in  Federal  affairs  began  in  the 
political  agitations  that  preceded  the  War  of  1812.  George  W.  Camp 
bell,  Senator  from  Tennessee,  was  the  most  effective  advocate  of  the 
Embargo  Bill  in  the  debates  of  1808;  and  his  arguments  continue  to  be 
authority  of  great  weight  in  favor  of  the  power  of  Congress  to  suppress 
commerce  for  cause.  The  actual  declaration  of  war  received  no  stronger 
support  than  from  Felix  Grundy,  who  was  then  in  Congress.  The 
uprising  of  the  Creek  Indians  was  the  bloodiest  episode  in  the  war,  and 
was  put  down  by  the  unaided  efforts  of  Tennessee.  Jackson  led  the 
fighting,  while  Governor  Blount  deserved  all  the  thanks  so  freely  bestowed 
upon  him  by  the  President  and  the  War  Department,  for  raising  upon 
his  own  responsibility  a  fund  of  nearly  $400,000.00  to  support  the  army. 
The  one  great  triumph  of  our  arms  on  land  was  at  New  Orleans, 


256  TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT 

where  Tennessee  militiamen,  under  our  backwoods  General,  overcame 
the  best  soldiers  of  the  Old  World  led  by  the  bravest  of  British  Generals. 
From  this  time  dates  the  prominence  of  Andrew  Jackson,  the  greatest 
leader  of  men  this  country  has  ever  produced;  first  democrat  of  his  time; 
first  citizen  of  the  most  democratic  State. 

Let  us  pass  now  to  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of  the  iQth  century, 
when  Jackson  offered  for  the  Presidency.  A  learned  historian  says 
of  this  period  that  "a  change  of  political  weather  was  preparing." 
It  was  the  change  from  a  qualified,  timid,  hesitating  democracy  to  a 
genuine,  bold,  self-reliant  democracy.  It  was  the  final  break  with  the  . 
past,  putting  the  .radical  Jackson  in  the  place  of  the  r^^cjdonaj^  Adams. 
It  was  in  a  sense  the  triumph  of  the  West  over  the  East,  of  the  unalloyed 
and  aggressive  native  Americanism,  born  and  bred  in  the  free  air  of  the 
frontiers,  over  the  conservative  Americanism  of  the  old  colonies,  which 
was  still  tramelled  by  old-world  influences.  Broadly  considered,  the 
occurrences  of  the  time  in  this  country  were  products  of  a  general 
ethical  and  intellectual  movement,  which,  beginning  in  Europe,  ex 
tended  over  the  civilized  world.  In  England  there  were  the  begin 
nings  of  great  legal  and  institutional  reforms;  in  Italy,  of  a  strug 
gle,  finally  successful,  for  unity  and  liberty;  in  France  and  Ger 
many,  of  successful  and  unsuccessful  attempts  at  revolution.  In  this 
country  the  activity  varied  in  direction  according  to  local  conditions. 
On  the  sea-board  were  commercial  enterprise  and  prosperity,  and  our 
manufactories  began  to  be  productive  and  important.  In  New  England, 
with  its  accumulated  wealth,  settled  social  conditions,  and  devotion  to 
education,  the  most  conspicuous  products  were  literary  and  philosophical. 
There  were  everywhere,  in  some  form,  splendid  and  beneficial  mani 
festations  of  the  manhood,  the  competency,  and  the  worth  of  our  people 
and  of  the  excellence  of  our  institutions.  To  the  America  of  that  time, 
Milton's  stately  words  may  be  applied  without  exaggeration: 

"Methinks  I  see  in  my  mind  a  noble  and  puissant  nation,  rous 
ing  herself  like  a  strong  man  after  sleep,  and  shaking  her  invinci 
ble  locks;  methinks  I  see  her  as  an  eagle,  mewing  her  mighty  youth, 
and  kindling  her  undazzled  eyes  at  the  full  midday  beam." 

How  did  it  happen  that  in  this  extraordinary  period,  Tennessee,  a 
comparatively  new  State,   attained   a   position   so   prominent   and   influ- 


TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT  257 

^ 

cntial  as  almost  to  justify  the  claim  of  one  of  her  recent  historians  that 
from  1830  to  1850  she  ruled  the  Union?  It  was  because  she  was 
the  best  representative  of  the  most  important  and  effective  social 
and  political  forces.  American  manhood  had  become  conscious  of 
itself,  and  ready  and  able  to  assert  itself.  The  people  of  the  new 
West  had  outgrown  the  natural  and  wise  conservatism  of  the  found 
ers  of  the  republic,  and  of  the  generation  that  had  succeeded  them. 
Federalism,  limitation  of  the  presidential  succession,  the  congressional 
caucus,  and  the  rule  of  what  was  called  the  better  class  were  all  swept 
away  by  the  rising  tide  of  the  new  democracy.  T^e  older  States  were 
the  strongholds  of  conservatism,  of  precedent,  of  tradition.  Every  day's 
march  westward  left  something  of  these  behind,  and  developed  inde 
pendence  and  self-reliance.  Tennessee  and  Kentucky  were  the  leading 
Western  States,  but  Tennessee  was  the  more  democratic,  and  had  the 
foremost  western  man.  There  was  not  one  of  the  strong  democratic 
forces  then  at  work  that  did  not  find  its  best  outlet  and  opportunity  in 
Tennessee.  That  the  conditions  in  Kentucky,  the  older  State,  were 
less  favorable  to  democratic  development,  is  explained  by  the  ascendancy 
of  the  wealthier  and  less  progressive  element  of  its  population,  and  by  the 
constitutional  conservatism  of  Mr.  Clay,  the  greatest  individual  force  in  the 
State's  affairs.  Jackson,  of  Tennessee,  was  the  incarnation  of  the  resistless 
spirit  of  the  time;  in  all  America  was  no  other  man  who  could  have  done 
what  he  did;  and  primarily,  he  represented  the  democracy  of  Tennessee.  In 
him,  and  in  other  strong  men,  Tennessee  had  what  the  time  required 
for  the  establishment  of  the  power  of  the  common  people;  and  it  was 
because  she  had  the  men  best  adapted  to  the  task  that  she  gave  presi 
dents  to  the  republic,  and  for  a  long  time  directed  its  councils.  Let  us 
turn  for  a  moment  to  these  resplendent  pages  of  her  history.  In 
every  presidential  election  from  1796  to  1832  inclusive,  Tennes 
see's  electoral  vote  was  cast  for  the  Democratic-Republican  candidate. 
In  1824  Jonn  Quincy  Adams  received  only  216  votes  in  the  State,  and 
in  1828  only  2,240,  while  in  1832  Mr.  Clay's  vote  was  1,436  and  Jack 
son's  28,740.  These  figures  demonstrate  the  absence  of  serious  opposi 
tion  to  the  Democratic  party  in  the  State.  I  know  that  Mr.  Adams 
belonged  to  that  party  nominally,  but  his  democracy  was  copiously  di 
luted.  In  1836,  however,  Van  Buren,  the  Democratic  candidate  for 
President,  was  defeated  in  the  State,  although  he  received  26,120  votes, 
while  the  aggregate  vote  in  opposition  was  about  36,000.  In  1840  Harri- 

17 


258  TENNESSEE,    PAST   AND    PRESENT 

son  carried  the  State  by  12,000  majority,  and  in  every  succeeding  presi 
dential  election  until  1856,  the  Whigs  had  the  majority.  The  change 
occurred  in  the  year  1835.  Why  was  it  that  the  Democratic  party,  so 
long  and  so  completely  dominant,  lost  power? 

In  1835  culminated  a  strenuous,  bitter  and  momentous  contest,  in 
which  the  leaders  were  four  men,  of  whom  I  wish  particularly  to  speak 
as  the  best  representatives  of  what  I  have  called  "the  Jackson  period," 
to  wit:  Andrew  Jackson  and  James  K.  Polk,  on  the  one  side,  and 
Hugh  Lawson  White  and  John  Bell  on  the  other — four  men  not  equalled 
in  ability  by  any  other  four  men  in  public  life  in  any  other  State  in  the 
Union  at  that  time.  These  four  representatives  of  the  sturdy  Scotch- 
Irish  race  were  all  candidates  at  different  times  for  the  Presidency,  and 
the  two,  who  were  elected,  were  not  superior  in  mental  capacity  to  those 
who  were  defeated,  although  it  must  be  admitted  that  in  the  combina 
tion  of  qualities  necessary  to  the  highest  practical  success,  Andrew  Jack 
son  rose  above  all  his  contemporaries 

About  the  year  1820  there  was  an  organized  Jackson  propaganda, 
with  headquarters  in  Tennessee,  which  incessantly  and  strenuously 
labored  to  make  its  hero  President,  its  leaders  being  John  Overton,  John 
Catron  and  William  B.  Lewis.  It  first  encountered  serious  opposition 
at  home  in  1823.  In  that  year  John  Williams,  who  had  served  seven 
years  as  United  States  Senator,  sought  re-election,  but  he  had  declared 
himself  for  William  H.  Crawford,  of  Georgia,  for  President.  It  became 
necessary,  therefore,  that  he  should  be  defeated  for  the  Senate,  and  the 
propaganda  failing  to  find  any  one  else  who  could  defeat  him,  brought 
forward,  and  not  without  difficulty,  elected  Jackson  himself.  In  this 
contest  were  sown  the  first  seeds  of  a  political  revolution  in  the  State, 
but  it  was  thirteen  years  before  they  germinated.  In  1824  Jackson 
failed  to  secure  the  Presidency,  but  in  1828  he  was  elected.  At  that 
time  White  was  in  the  Senate,  and  Bell  and  Polk  were  in  the  House  of 
Representatives.  White  was  at  one  time  President  pro  tempore  of  the 
Senate,  and  Bell  was  elected  once  and  Polk  twice  Speaker  of  the  House 
of  Representatives.  Verily  that  was  a  time  of  many  honors  for  Ten 
nessee.  In  1828  and  in  1832  Polk,  White  and  Bell  were  all  supporters 
of  Jackson,  but  as  early  as  1831,  or  certainly  by  the  time  of  Jackson's 
second  election,  there  was  a  distinct  sentiment  in  Tennessee  in  favor 
of  White  as  his  successor.  Jackson,  however,  had  already  selected  as 
his  successor,  Martin  Van  Buren,  chief  of  the  famous  Albany  regency, 


TENNESSEE,  PAST  AND  PRESENT  259 

and  the  most  skillful  politician  that  ever  held  the  Presidency.  He  had 
carried  New  York  for  Jackson,  and  had  manifested  to  his  imperious  chief 
an  unfailing  and  sagacious  subserviency  that  demanded  the  largest  re 
wards.  In  addition  he  possessed  the  exceptional  merit  of  having  called 
on  Mrs.  Eaton.  For  these  reasons  he  was  the  second  ruler  of  the  Repub 
lic  during  the  remainder  of  Jackson's  term,  and  the  President  felt  that 
with  Van  Buren  as  his  successor,  his  own  administration,  practically, 
would  be  continued. 

The  Federalist  party  was  dead  at  this  time,  and  its  successor  had 
hardly  been  born,  so  that  there  were  really  no  party  lines  anywhere. 
In  Tennessee  there  had  been  no  parties  up  to  this  time,  but  politics 
had  been  entirely  and  particularly  personal.  For  fifteen  years  Jackson 
had  been  the  sun  around  which  all  the  lesser  luminaries  revolved.  Never 
theless  the  unanimity  had  been  more  apparent  than  real,  for  men  differed 
in  opinion  then  as  now;  there  were  many  eager  and  not  a  few  disappointed 
ambitions,  and  the  imperiousness  of  Jackson's  methods  continually 
created  enemies.  Times  were  now  ripe  for  revolt  in  Tennessee,  and 
the  influences  that  led  to  the  establishment  of  the  Whig  party  were  at 
work  throughout  the  Union.  White,  the  second  man  in  Tennessee,  and 
Jackson,  the  first,  were  drawing  gradually  apart.  In  1831,  White  had 
been  offered  the  Secretaryship  of  War,  and  later,  in  order  to  prevent 
his  candidacy  for  President,  other  honors  were  offered  him,  and  suc 
cessively  declined.  In  1834  Jackson's  patience,  never  to  be  relied  on 
implicitly,  was  exhausted,  and  he  declared  with  characteristic  vehe 
mence  that  if  White  became  a  candidate,  he  would  be  made  odious  to 
society.  This  statement  was  more  remarkable  for  emphasis  than  for 
logic. 

The  crisis  came  in  1834,  when  a  majority  of  the  Tennessee  delegation 
in  Congress  sent  a  letter  to  White  requesting  him  to  announce  himself 
for  the  Presidency.  Prompted  less  by  ambition  than  by  a  natural  resent 
ment  of  the  President's  conduct  and  utterances,  he  complied.  Promi 
nent  among  his  supporters  were  John  Bell  and  David  Crockett.  Up 
to  this  time  White  and  Bell  and  all  other  conspicuous  Tennessee  leaders 
had  supported  Jackson  almost  invariably.  In  a  few  instances  both 
White  and  Bell  had  ventured  to  assert  the  right  of  individual  judgment 
with  the  uniform  result  of  angering  the  President.  In  1827  there  had 
been  a  contest  for  Congress  in  the  Hermitage  District  between  Bell  and 
Felix  Grundy,  in  which  Jackson  strongly  supported  Grundy,  and  in 


260  TENNESSEE,    PAST   AND    PRESENT 

every  election  between  that  date  and  1834  the  friends  of  the  President 
had  been  arrayed  against  Mr.  Bell.  In  the  matter  of  the  removal  of 
the  bank  deposits,  Bell  had  not  supported  Jackson,  but  had  never  placed 
himself  squarely  in  opposition;  and  it  is  certain  that,  however  much  he 
may  have  resented  Jackson's  persistent  opposition,  he  was  reluctant 
to  break  with  him  finally.  In  1835  he  declared  that  the  friends  of  White 
would  adhere  to  Jackson,  but  would  do  so  from  a  desire  to  be  consistent 
and  out  of  respect  for  their  own  characters  and  in  support  of  their  own 
principles.  This  was  the  last  expression  of  a  profound  reluctance  to 
depart  from  the  old  traditions  and  associations,  and  soon  afterwards 
he  emphatically  renounced  personal  allegiance  to  Jackson. 

The  die  was  now  cast.  White's  announcement  produced  a  furious 
factional  war  upon  the  two  men  who  had  thus  become  guilty  of  the  high 
offense  of  disregarding  the  will  of  the  President.  The  Globe,  the  admin 
istration  organ  at  Washington,  declared  Bell  to  be  the  real  conspirator, 
and  denounced  him  for  using  White  to  break  down  the  administration. 
Jackson  conducted  this  war  upon  his  usual  plan  of  incessant  and  unre 
lenting  attack,  no  quarter  being  asked  or  granted.  Bell  must  not  be 
returned  to  Congress  in  the  election  of  1835,  but  no  one  could  be  found 
to  run  against  him  and  he  was  re-elected.  In  the  same  year  White  was 
returned  to  the  Senate,  and  a  candidate  friendly  to  him  was  elected  Gov 
ernor.  But  the  battle  did  not  end.  In  the  next  year  would  come  the 
Presidential  election,  and  Jackson  always  fought  to  a  finish.  The  press 
of  the  State  favored  White,  and  so  editors  trained  in  vituperation  and 
truculency  were  imported  to  abuse  and  ridicule  White  and  Bell,  and 
performed  the  task  with  unsurpassed  fidelity  and  ability.  The  whole 
year  long  there  was  a  rain  of  epithets  and  a  thunderstorm  of  charges 
and  counter-charges.  The  language  of  denunciation  was  exhausted 
speedily;  the  State  was  in  turmoil;  old  allegiancies  were  cast  aside  and 
new  ones  assumed  with  unparalleled  enthusiasm;  every  man  became 
an  orator  and  not  a  few  became  poets  with  the  most  extraordinary  results. 
Jackson  willingly  endured  the  fatigues  of  the  long  overland  journey  from 
Washington  in  order,  as  his  enemies  said,  to  thrust  the  "little  huckster" 
Martin  Van  Buren,  his  heir  apparent,  down  the  throats  of  the  people  of 
Tennessee.  White  and  Bell  were  called  Whigs,  that  being  regarded  by 
the  Jacksonians  at  that  time  as  the  most  opprobrious  of  epithets.  By 
the  less  strenuous  they  were  described  as  ingrates,  apostates  and  traitors. 
The  use  of  adjectives  below  the  superlative  degree  was  exceptional,  and 


TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT  261 

there  was  a  striking  demonstration  of  the  inadequacy  of  the  superlative 
in  Tennessee  politics. 

But  despite  the  epithets,  the  unnumbered  orations,  the  deluges  of 
denunciation,  the  unparalleled  poetry,  the  personal  efforts  of  Jackson, 
and  the  strong  and  natural  indisposition  of  men  to  admit  a  change  of 
political  position,  it  became  apparent  long  before  the  election  day  that 
Tennessee  would  have  none  of  Van  Buren.  The  people  of  the  State 
had  never  been  brought  under  the  spell  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's  irresistible 
manners,  and  were  not  alive  to  the  merit  of  his  call  upon  Mrs.  Eaton. 

In  the  election  of  1836  White  carried  the  State  and  even  secured  a 
majority  in  the  Hermitage  precinct.  He  was  not  elected,  but  he  won 
the  State  over  the  opposition  of  the  hitherto  invincible  Jackson,  and  thus 
arose  the  Whig  party  in  Tennessee. 

For  the  next  twenty  years,  John  Bell,  whom  I  place  next  after  Mr. 
Calhoun  in  intellectual  capacity  among  the  Southern  statesmen  of  the 
time,  was  the  undisputed  leader  of  the  Whig  party  in  Tennessee.  He 
was  elected  twice  to  the  Senate,  and  in  1860  was  nominated  at  Baltimore 
for  the  Presidency  by  the  conservative  Union  party,  his  principal  com 
petitor  being  Sam  Houston,  then  of  Texas,  but  formerly  of  Tennessee. 
At  that  time,  Mr.  Bell  was  the  most  intellectual  man  in  public  life  in  the 
Southern  States. 

In  securing  the  election  of  Van  Buren  to  the  Presidency,  Jackson 
carried  out  his  design  of  continuing  his  own  policies.  Mr.  Van  Buren 
made  haste  to  declare  that  it  would  be  his  purpose  to  follow  in  the  foot 
steps  of  his  illustrious  predecessor.  I  have  always  felt  that  the  great 
State  of  New  York  should  have  made  acknowledgment  of  the  fact  that 
she  owes  to  a  Tennessean  the  first  of  the  many  Presidents  that  she  has 
given  to  the  Union.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  general  policies 
of  Jackson  were  continued  by  his  friend  and  follower,  James  K.  Polk. 
The  last  Tennessee  statesman  of  the  Jackson  period  to  attain  high  posi 
tion  was  Andrew  Johnson,  whose  first  election  to  Congress  occurred 
while  Jackson  was  still  President.  Others  who  became  prominent  dur 
ing  the  Jackson  period  were  John  Catron,  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  United  States;  Felix  Grundy,  Attorney-General  of  the  United 
States;  Aaron  V.  Brown,  Postmaster-General;  John  H.  Eaton,  Secretary 
of  War  and  Minister  to  Spain;  William  Carroll,  six  times  Governor;  and 
Cave  Johnson,  Postmaster-General. 

I  have  already  shown  the  prominent  part  that  Tennessee  had  in  pro- 


262  TENNESSEE,  PAST  AND  PRESENT 

moting  and  conducting  the  War  of  1812.  I  can  only  mention  a  few  of 
the  other  great  things  which  she  may  claim  to  have  accomplished  during 
the  period  of  her  political  ascendancy.  The  overthrow  of  the  Bank  of 
the  United  States  was  the  work  of  Andrew  Jackson,  and  I  say  again  that 
primarily  Jackson  represented  Tennessee.  The  present  organization 
of  the  Treasury  Department  of  the  United  States  resulted  from  Jackson's 
overthrow  of  the  bank  and  may  be  attributed,  fairly,  to  his  policy.  The 
part  played  by  the  statesmen  of  Tennessee  in  producing  the  Mexican 
War  and  the  acquisitions  of  territory  that  followed  it,  need  not  be  recited. 
One  other  thing  of  the  first  importance  I  mention.  Of  the  growth  of 
sentiment  in  this  country  toward  what  we  now  call  nationalism,  Webster's 
reply  to  Hayne  was  undoubtedly  the  first  great  oratorical  and  literary 
expression.  Great  as  it  was,  however,  it  is  not  entitled  to  the  praise  of 
originality,  except  as  to  form;  and  there  were  many  men  in  public  life 
when  it  was  delivered  who  were  ready  to  avow  its  sentiments,  although 
no  one  probably  who  could  have  presented  them  so  effectively. 

The  final  test  of  devotion  to  the  principles  avowed  by  Mr.  Webster 
was  the  practical  one,  and  this  was  applied  first  to  Jackson.  I  believe 
that  the  facts  will  fully  sustain  the  assertion  that  Jackson's  Nullification 
Proclamation  did  far  more  to  settle  opinion  in  the  North  upon  the  lines 
of  Mr.  Webster's  argument  than  all  other  influences  combined.  It 
was  a  fine  and  courageous  thing  to  announce  principles  so  much  opposed 
to  a  strong  body  of  sentiment;  but  it  was  a  finer  and  more  courageous 
thing  to  meet  an  actual  issue  as  Jackson  met  it  in  his  proclamation.  He 
was  more  advanced  in  his  position  and  far  more  ready  to  convert  his 
opinions  into  action  than  Mr.  Buchanan  was  thirty  years  later,  and  it  is 
not  to  be  doubted  that  he  established  the  precedent  for  1861. 

There  is  much  more  that  might  be  said,  but  time  will  not  permit. 
The  men  and  the  events  that  we  have  considered  must  be  regarded  with 
pride  by  every  Tennessean.  We  have  seen  how  important  a  factor  in 
public  affairs  Tennessee  was  in  that  admirable  time — the  Jackson  period — 
and  if  now  we  consider  material  conditions  within  the  State,  we  shall 
find  hardly  less  cause  for  gratification.  If  we  inquire  as  to  social  affairs, 
we  shall  see  that  the  people  had  become  coherent  and  in  the  best  sense 
homogeneous,  so  that  there  was  a  distinct  State  sentiment  and  a  proper 
State  pride.  The  people  were  prosperous,  progressive,  morally  sound, 
intellectually  alert,  strenuously  patriotic  and  justly  confident  of  the  future. 
The  second  Constitution  of  the  State,  which  was  adopted  in  this  period, 


TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND    PRESENT  263 

faithfully  represented  the  popular  will  in  its  strong  and  excellent  declara 
tions  in  favor  of  education  and  of  public  improvements.  There  was 
no  respect  in  which  the  State's  condition  was  not  exceptionally  satisfac 
tory,  while  its  position  in  the  Union  was  highly  honorable,  and  of  the 
first  importance.  This  suggests  the  inquiry:  Why  is  it  now  relatively 
less  important  and  influential  than  it  was  seventy  years  ago? 

For  a  loss  of  position  which  is  indisputable  there  are  many  causes, 
most  of  which  are  obvious.  The  one  word  "war"  explains  the  situation 
generally;  but  there  are  certain  matters  in  addition  to  the  destruction 
of  property  and  the  overthrow  of  our  industrial  system  that  should  be 
considered.  Very  much  is  being  said  at  this  time  in  regard  to  the  loss 
of  influence  in  the  Union  by  the  Southern  States.  The  condition  can 
not  be  denied,  but  there  is  a  large  element  of  exaggeration  in  nearly  all 
public  utterances  upon  the  subject.  A  recent  Southern  speaker  plaint 
ively  regretted  the  fact  that  we  have  now  no  Calhouns,  or  even  Lamars 
or  Hills.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  inquire  why  Massachusetts  fur 
nishes  no  more  Websters,  Everetts  and  Choates,  while  even  the  Adams 
have  become  unimportant,  probably  we  shall  realize  that  our  want  of 
great  political  leaders  is  the  result  of  conditions  that  are  not  peculiar 
to  the  South,  but  that  are  general.  The  true  generalization  is  that  since 
the  Civil  War  social  and  political  forces  have  changed  directions.  The 
subjects  demanding  the  attention  of  public  men  are  radically  different 
from  the  great  questions  of  fifty  or  even  twenty-five  years  ago.  The 
public  mind  of  the  North  is  better  prepared  for  the  new  problems  that 
demand  attention  than  that  of  the  South;  but  in  no  section  is  a  high 
degree  of  competency  manifest.  We  are  not  consciously  going  in  any 
direction;  we  are  submitting  to  great  forces  which  we  cannot  resist,  and 
whose  results  we  cannot  foretell.  It  is  a  time  of  transition  and  prepara 
tion  when  men  are  being  made  ready  for  great  duties  which  as  yet  we 
are  all  incompetent  to  discharge,  even  to  comprehend  thoroughly.  Politi 
cal  parties  seem  to  be  endeavoring  to  agree  and  to  await  future  develop 
ments.  We  are  drifting  on  unknown  and  deep  waters,  out  of  sight  of 
the  old  landmarks,  believing  that  the  "stream  of  tendency"  is  bearing 
us  in  the  right  direction,  confident  that  no  evil  can  befall  a  ship  so  big, 
with  a  cargo  so  rich. 

Passing  from  these  general  and  probably  not  very  instructive  state 
ments,  there  are  certain  palpable  things  upon  which  we  can  take  hold. 
This  is  a  time  of  unprecedented  material  development,  and  in  this  develop- 


264  TENNESSEE,    PAST   AND    PRESENT 

ment  the  South,  for  want  of  money,  has  had  an  inferior  part.  Seventy 
years  ago  the  great  men  of  the  country  were  its  orators  and  statesmen; 
a  little  later  arose,  especially  in  New  England,  a  school  of  writers  who 
claimed  a  large  public  consideration;  now  our  most  conspicuous  and 
influential  men  are  merchants,  manufacturers  and  financiers,  and  all 
progress  is,  apparently,  material.  Under  such  conditions  a  compara 
tively  poor  State,  whose  people  are  imperfectly  trained  in  finance,  and 
whose  material  resources  have  hardly  begun  to  be  developed,  cannot 
hope  to  hold  a  leading  place. 

Again,  Tennessee,  with  all  the  other  Southern  States,  is  under  the 
dominion  of  an  artificial,  but  apparently  unavoidable  political  and  social 
question.  So  long  as  this  imperative  race  question  remains  unsolved, 
it  must  present  a  natural  and  healthy  cleavage  and  alignment  of  our 
people  on  political  questions.  This  is  less  true,  perhaps,  of  Tennessee 
than  of  certain  other  States,  but  the  condition  exists  here,  though  in 
less  acute  form.  The  whole  South  has  taken  a  position  from  which  it 
will  not  recede.  I  do  not  ask  whether  it  is  right  or  is  wrong,  but  only 
state  the  fact.  In  a  free  government,  the  people  naturally  divide  into 
parties,  and  the  agitations  and  rivalries  which  result  from  such  divi 
sions  are  necessary  to  public  health  and  to  political  development.  We 
cannot  have  such  divisions  and  rivalries  anywhere  in  the  South  under 
present  conditions,  and  the  situation,  which  is  bad  enough  inherently, 
is  continually  made  worse  by  well-meant,  but  injurious  interferences, 
by  men  who  are  not  directly  affected  by  it,  and  who  have  no  actual  knowl 
edge  of  it.  A  Southern  State  can  hardly  hope  for  a  leading  place  in 
Federal  affairs  so  long  as  this  artificial  and  perilous  question  dominates 
its  domestic  politics  and  dictates  the  conduct  of  its  statesmen  in  Federal 
affairs. 

One  other  thing  is  of  the  first  importance.  The  paramount  duty 
of  the  time  is  education  of  the  people,  and  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to 
declare  that  the  dominant  impulse  in  Tennessee  at  this  time  is  in  the 
direction  of  education.  The  unavoidable  backwardness  of  the  South 
ern  States  in  this  respect  is,  to  a  limited  extent,  the  cause  of  their  rela 
tively  inferior  positions  in  the  Union.  But  the  situation  is  not  under 
stood  in  other  parts  of  the  country.  There  has  been  no  retrogression 
in  the  South,  but  upon  the  contrary,  steady  progress.  The  masses  of 
the  people  are  better  educated,  and  the  body  of  intelligence  is  larger 
now  than  ever  before.  Substantial  advancement  has  been  made  in  the 


TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT  265 

face  of  obstacles  of  which  the  people  of  other  sections  of  the  Union  have 
no  conception.  Circumstances  have  prevented  us  from  keeping  pace 
with  the  North  and  the  West,  and  our  average  of  illiteracy  is  still  dis 
tressingly  high.  The  leaders  of  a  people  are  not  the  few  exceptional 
men  of  higher  culture  between  whom  and  the  masses  there  is  little  sym 
pathy,  but  those  who  best  represent  the  average  of  citizenship  As  the 
level  of  intelligence  in  a  community  rises,  the  demands  upon  those  who 
aspire  to  leadership  become  more  exacting.  In  a  representative  govern 
ment,  the  influence  of  any  community  will  be  proportioned  to  the  gen 
eral  intelligence  of  that  community,  because  its  representatives  must 
always  be  men  who  rise  somewhat,  but  not  very  much,  above  the  aver 
age.  The  world  is  better  educated  now  than  ever  before.  The  natural 
and  proper  ambitions  that  we  cherish  for  our  State  cannot  be  gratified 
without  the  better  education  of  our  people. 

Illiteracy  is  a  great  misfortune,  a  very  positive  evil;  but,  as  it  exists 
among  the  white  people  of  the  South  today,  it  is  not  the  worst  of  evils . 
The  illiterate  white  people  of  the  South  are  not  inferior  in  intellect,  or 
in  social  value  to  the  lower  grades  of  literate  white  people  in  the  cities 
of  other  sections,  and  are  superior  to  them  morally.  They  are,  as  a 
rule,  both  an  intelligent  and  a  pure  people;  an  independent  and  a  liberty- 
loving  people.  There  is  every  reason  why  we  should  continue  our  cru 
sade  against  illiteracy;  but  at  the  same  time,  we  should  not  lose  all  sense 
of  proportion  and  be  unjust  to  our  people,  or  permit  them  to  be  mis 
judged  or  under-valued  generally  on  account  of  a  particular  defect  whose 
existence  we  must  admit. 

Not  very  long  ago,  I  heard  a  very  earnest  and  worthy  friend  of  edu 
cation  declare  our  illiteracy  a  menace  to  the  country  and  its  institutions. 
The  speaker,  referring  to  East  Tennessee,  coupled  the  words  "moun 
taineer"  and  "illiteracy,"  and  I  wondered  if  he  knew  that  out  of  the  moun 
tains  that  were  visible  to  him  as  he  spoke,  went  in  1861  thirty  thousand 
volunteers  to  fight  for  the  Union,  the  largest  number  from  any  section 
of  the  Union  in  proportion  to  population.  At  the  same  time  went  half 
as  many  of  these  mountaineers  to  enlist  under  the  banner  of  the  lost 
cause. 

These  people  are  entitled  to  sympathy  and  to  help;  but  they  are  also 
entitled  to  respect.  It  so  happens  that  Tennessee,  with  other  neigh 
boring  States,  is  with  more  or  less  justice  held  guilty  of  the  two  civic 
faults  which  I  shall  call  the  most  dramatic,  furnishing  the  readiest  and 


266  TENNESSEE,   PAST  AND   PRESENT 

easiest  material  to  the  novelist  and  the  declaimer,  namely,  violence  and 
illiteracy.  I  do  not  undertake  to  discuss  the  subject  of  violence.  It 
must  be  apparent  to  every  fair-minded  man  that  with  the  growth  of  popu 
lation,  and  with  improved  police  service,  crimes  of  violence  will  decrease 
steadily. 

We,  of  Tennessee,  are  essentially  American.  Not  of  unmixed  blood, 
but  of  the  least  mixed,  and  with  many  generations  of  American  ancestry 
behind  us.  Probably  I  am  not  speaking  to  a  man  or  woman  whose 
family  was  not  represented  in  the  American  Revolution.  We  hear  much 
said  in  praise  of  our  old  civilization,  in  all  of  which  I  concur.  But  it 
is  more  to  the  purpose,  and  is  perfectly  true,  to  say  that  at  this  present 
time  the  standards  and  the  practice  of  the  civic  and  of  the  personal  vir 
tues  are  higher  in  the  South  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  country;  that 
upon  an  average  we  have  the  best  men  and  the  best  women  leading  the 
purest,  and  the  least  selfish  lives.  I  say  this,  taking  into  account  the 
lowering  of  levels  that  illiteracy  must  be  allowed  to  produce. 

Referring  more  especially  to  our  native  State,  I  am  of  opinion  that 
there  is  in  the  South  more  of  contentment  and  of  rational  happiness  than 
elsewhere  in  the  Republic,  although  we  may  not  deny  that  we  are  becom 
ing  infected  with  the  great  national  vice  of  inordinate  love  of  money. 
We  have  the  largest  body  of  genuinely  American  population,  of  gen 
uinely  American  sentiment;  that  is  to  say,  the  largest  body  of  sound  and 
clean  population  and  opinion  in  this  hemisphere. 

Such  qualities  in  men  as  demand  free  institutions,  and  such  virtues 
as  those  institutions  foster  are  logically  and  necessarily  of  high  develop 
ment  here,  because  we  are,  as  a  rule,  descended  from  men  who  fought 
for  and  established  our  liberties,  whose  faith  and  principles  come  to  us 
as  part  of  our  very  life  through  five  generations  of  American  ancestors, 
from  whom  we  have  the  least  diluted  strain  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood,  and 
the  purest  Anglo-Saxon  American  traditions. 

I  have  no  fear  for  the  future  of  Tennessee.  I  am  constrained  to 
believe  that  present  day  activities  in  things  purely  material  are  excessive, 
and  reaction  inevitable;  that  if  conservatism  involve  losses  in  certain 
respects,  there  are  reason  and  duty  and  distinct  social  service  in  adher 
ence  to  old  and  tried  standards  of  faith  and  culture,  and  that  the  time 
will  come  quickly  when  the  material  prosperity  of  the  South  will  be  estab 
lished  on  firm  and  enduring  foundations. 


ATHANASIUS. 

|OT  far  from  the  time  when  Alexander  the  Great  made  his  famous 
expedition  to  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Ammon,  he  caused  to  be  laid 
in  Egypt  the  foundations  of  a  city  which  was  to  bear  his  name  to 
our  own  time,  and  which  was  to  be  through  many  centuries  the 
chief  seat  of  that  splendid  civilization  which  his  conquests  spread  abroad 
from  Greece  into  the  barbaric  world. 

The  city  of  Alexandria  stands  upon  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean 
at  the  Canopic  mouth  of  the  Nile,  between  the  sea  and  Lake  Mareotis. 
When  the  Ptolemies  came  into  possession  of  Egypt  they  made  it  their  cap 
ital,  and  in  the  course  of  time  it  deserved  to  be  called  the  most  magnificent 
city  of  the  ancient  world.  Two  great  streets,  each  one  hundred  feet  in 
width,  crossed  at  a  right  angle.  At  their  intersection,  which  was  the 
center  of  the  city,  rose  the  splendid  mausoleum  of  the  Macedonian 
conqueror.  These  broad  avenues  were  resplendent  and  stately  with 
marble  temples,  palaces,  theatres,  the  most  imposing  perhaps,  if  not  the 
•most  beautiful,  conceptions  of  Greek  architecture.  A  capacious  and 
secure  harbor  received  the  commerce  of  all  nations,  and  at  its  limit 
towered  the  famous  lighthouse  Pharos,  called  one  of  the  seven  wonders 
of  the  world,  a  mighty  column  of  white  marble,  on  whose  lofty  summit 
continually  burned  a  fire  whose  light  went  many  miles  out  to  sea. 

Alexandria  became  the  commercial  capital  of  the  world.  The  sails  of 
her  argosies  whitened  every  sea  from  that  burning  zone  on  the  south  which 
no  mariner  dared  invade,  to  the  waste  and  tempestuous  shores  of  Ultima 
Thule.  Her  influence  was  great  in  all  the  earth,  and  her  name  was  a  syn 
onym  of  power  and  splendor.  But  this  was  not  her  great  glory.  In  the 
Bruchion,  the  aristocratic  quarter  of  the  city,  there  stood  in  her  golden 
age  a  spreading  and  massive  structure  of  white  marble,  on  whose  broad 
and  pillared  piazza  in  the  cool  of  the  morning  and  evening  thousands 
daily  assembled.  This  was  the  museum,  and  within  its  walls  were  gathered 
the  choicest  treasures  of  the  world.  Its  halls  and  porticoes  were  adorned 
with  the  master-work  of  the  Hellenic  genius  in  painting  and  in  sculpture, 
and  its  library  held,  in  that  day  of  manuscript  books,  four  hundred  thousand 
volumes,  while  the  temple  of  Serapis,  near  by,  contained  three  hundred 
thousand  more. 

The  museum  was  dedicated  to  the  perpetuation,  increase  and  diffusion 
of  knowledge,  and  was  the  visible  manifestation  of  an  intellectual  primacy 

(267) 


268  ATHANASIUS 

such  as  no  other  city  has  ever  attained,  not  even  Athens  in  the  age  of  Per 
icles,  or  Florence  in  the  days  of  the  Medici.  In  Alexandria  the  philoso 
phy  of  Plato  had  a  new  birth  and  a  vigorous  if  morbid  life  in  the  school  of 
the  Neo-Platonists.  At  the  same  time  the  exact  sciences  were  studied 
according  to  the  methods  of  Aristotle  of  Stagira,  the  putative  father  of 
induction.  In  the  halls  of  the  museum,  trigonometry,  astronomy,  geome 
try,  physics,  mathematics  pure  and  applied,  in  all  departments,  flourished 
and  attained  a  growth  such  as  they  had  never  known  before.  A  scholar 
of  the  museum  invented  the  fire  engine  and  first  measured  time  by  a 
clock.  Another  conceived  the  steam  engine,  but  it  remained  for  the 
more  advanced  science  of  a  remote  century  to  apply  the  invention  to 
practical  uses.  Still  another  formulated  a  theory  and  system  of  astron 
omy  which  yielded  only  to  the  discoveries  of  Copernicus  and  Kepler. 
From  the  museum  went  out  the  knowledge  that  enlightened  the  pagan 
conquerors  of  the  seventh  century  and  made  possible  that  brilliant,  if  eva 
nescent,  outburst  of  civilization  among  the  Saracens  to  which  so  many 
trace  our  own  western  revival  of  learning. 

Alexandria  was  in  truth  the  birthplace  of  modern  science.  But  this  is 
not  all.  Her  glory  did  not  expire  with  paganism,  nor  did  her  intellectual 
supremacy  depart  with  the  overthrow  of  pagan  religions  and  philosophies. 
Early  in  the  days  of  Christianity  she  became  the  stronghold  of  that  true 
and  invincible  faith.  Rome  had  ceased  to  be  the  seat  of  empire.  She  had 
passed  the  zenith  of  her  greatness  and  witnessed  the  founding  of  a  new 
imperial  city  upon  the  Hellespont.  Alexandria  had  not  gone  unscathed. 
In  the  siege  of  the  city  by  Julius  Caesar  the  museum  and  its  library  had 
been  burned,  and  in  many  other  ways  her  splendors  had  been  wasted;  but 
though  declining  she  had  not  fallen.  Through  all  these  centuries  her 
people  had  been  trained  and  sharpened.  The  Greek  intellect,  the  subtlest 
the  world  has  produced,  there  reached  the  perfection  of  subtlety,  and  the 
Greek  language,  the  most  powerful  and  flexible  of  all  tongues,  there 
attained  its  highest  development. 

In  this  environment  of  the  highest  intellectual  culture,  now  super- 
refined  and  fantastical,  strongly  tinctured  with  the  scepticism  begotten  of 
the  clash  of  religions  and  the  visible  decay  of  the  one  most  in  vogue,  was 
born  Anno  Domini,  297,  one  of  the  most  notable  men  in  all  church  his 
tory.  It  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  at  the  end  of  the  third 
century  the  State  religion  of  the  Roman  Empire  was  still  pagan.  In  the 
year  303  occurred  the  atrocious  persecution  of  the  Christians  by  the 


ATHANASIUS  269 

Emperor  Maximian,  one  of  the  most  general,  most  persistent  and  most 
cruel  that  the  followers  of  Christ  have  ever  suffered. 

Athanasius  was  born  of  Christian  parents,  but  we  have  no  record  of  the 
fortunes  of  the  family  in  this  dark  period.  Probably  their  station  was  too 
humble  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  persecutors.  Yet  they  must  have 
been  people  of  some  culture,  for  we  know  that  Athanasius  was  a  man  of 
liberal  education;  that  he  was  trained  in  grammar  and  rhetoric,  studied 
Homer  and  Plato,  the  philosophy  of  Greece,  and  jurisprudence.  Nature 
had  endowed  him  with  an  intellect  both  comprehensive  and  acute,  and  the 
surroundings  of  his  youth,  though  variable  and  dangerous,  were  calcu 
lated  to  call  into  play  and  to  develop  all  his  faculties. 

The  population  of  Alexandria  was  mainly 'com posed  of  three  classes — 
Christians  of  diverse  nationalities,  Jews,  and  pagans  of  the  old  Egyptian 
or  Coptic  school.  For  many  centuries  the  city  had  been  a  stronghold  of 
the  Jews  and  of  Judaism.  It  was  there,  nearly  three  centuries  before 
Christ,  that  the  famous  septuagint  translation  of  the  Old  Testament  was 
made.  And  thus  for  ages  had  flourished  side  by  side  the  dark  and  mys 
terious  adoration  of  Isis  and  Osiris,  the  aesthetic  and  superficial  polytheism 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  the  worship  of  Jehovah.  It  is  also  more  than 
probable  that  the  subtle  and  profound  philosophies  of  India  and  Persia 
were  not  unknown  to  the  students  of  the  museum. 

In  this  vast  and  splendid  city,  cosmopolitan  in  composition  and  in 
opinion,  comprising  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  all  philosophies,  all 
religions,  all  beliefs  and  all  unbeliefs,  representing  the  best  and  the  worst 
of  an  uncertain  and  transitional  epoch,  Athanasius  was  born  and  reared. 
As  a  young  man  he  witnessed  the  last  desperate  struggle  of  the  dying  pagan 
ism,  and  beheld  with  pious  joy  the  irresistible  march  of  the  true  faith. 
One  of  the  favorite  legends  of  the  fathers  which  has  at  least  the  merit 
of  probability,  is  in  thorough  keeping  with  the  character  of  Athanasius  as 
it  has  come  down  to  us: 

The  Episcopal  Palace  of  Alexandria  was  on  the  seashore.  One  after 
noon  as  the  archbishop  stood  at  a  window  he  saw  a  group  of  boys  at  play 
on  the  beach.  His  attention  was  arrested  by  the  fact  that  one  of  them  was 
acting  as  bishop  and  baptizing  the  others  in  the  sea.  Perceiving  in  this 
a  smack  of  irreverence,  he  caused  the  boys  to  be  summoned  to  his  pres 
ence.  The  youthful  bishop  was  subjected  to  a  severe  catechizing,  and 
endured  the  ordeal  so  successfully  that  the  real  bishop  ended  by  recog 
nizing  the  baptism  as  valid  and  insisted  upon  following  it  with  confirm  a- 


2/0  ATHANASIUS 

tion.  The  young  ecclesiastic  was  Athanasius,  who  soon  became  an  inmate 
of  the  palace  and  the  secretary  of  the  Primate.  Whether  all  this  story  be 
true  or  not,  it  is  certain  that  at  an  early  age  Athanasius  was  the  amanuensis 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Alexandria,  and  that  he  so  discharged  his  duties  as 
to  become  speedily  the  most  trusted  of  friends  and  advisers. 

Thus  the  formative  years  of  his  life  were  spent  under  the  most  orthodox 
influences,  and  at  the  very  center  of  ecclesiastical  and  intellectual  activity. 
The  turn  of  his  mind  was  early  manifested  in  the  preparation  of  a  treatise 
against  the  Gentiles,  which  was  an  exposure  of  the  errors  of  heathenism 
and  a  defense  of  monotheism.  This  was  one  of  the  earliest,  as  it  was  one 
of  the  ablest,  efforts  to  present  the  truths  of  Christianity  in  logical  and 
philosophical  form.  And  this  was  the  beginning  of  the  long  fight  for  the 
faith,  in  which  Athanasius  was  destined  to  be  the  most  conspicuous  and 
the  worthiest  actor.  The  church  was  now  upon  the  verge  of  the  most 
persistent  and  dangerous  internecine  struggle  that  occurred  in  the  first  fif 
teen  centuries  of  its  life. 

One  day  there  came  into  the  city  of  Alexandria,  out  of  the  desert 
of  Libya,  a  strange  man.  He  wore  the  garb  of  the  church,  and  in  that 
organization  his  name  was  not  entirely  unknown,  but  as  yet  it  had 
none  of  that  sinister  prominence  which  it  was  afterwards  to  attain. 
This  man  was  already  advanced  in  age.  The  scant  hairs  of  his  tonsure 
were  white,  his  sallow  face  showed  the  traces  of  years.  His  eyes  were 
sunk  deep  under  shaggy  brows,  but  they  were  bright  with  the  fires  of  intel 
lect  and  resolution.  His  tall  form  showed  the  effects  of  long  and  rigid 
asceticism,  but  it  was  still  unbent.  Clad  in  the  coarse  and  scanty  vest 
ments  of  the  hermits  of  the  wilderness,  he  came  uncalled  and  unheralded. 
Quickly  demonstrating  both  the  will  and  the  capacity  to  work,  he  found  a 
place  among  the  Primates'  chosen  friends,  and  at  the  time  when  he 
demands  our  attention  was  rector  of  Baukalis,  the  oldest  parish  in  Alex 
andria.  I  have  not  found  that  he  was  an  eloquent  man,  or  popular,  but  as 
a  dialectician  and  as  a  polemic  he  has  had  few  equals  in  the  history  of  the 
church,  while  his  persistency  of  purpose  and  force  of  character  would  have 
made  him  irresistible  in  a  good  cause.  This  man  was  Arius,  a  name  of 
tremendous  significance  to  all  who  know  the  history  of  the  church. 

For  some  years  after  the  appearance  of  Arius  in  Alexandria,  we  have 
no  hint  of  the  doctrines  which,  later,  made  his  name  so  familiar  to  the 
world.  He  appears  to  have  discharged  his  pastoral  functions  efficiently 
and  acceptably.  But  finally  it  was  whispered  about  that  he  was  uttering 


ATHANASIUS  27! 

strange  opinions.  The  Primate  sent  for  him  and  engaged  him  in  an  argu 
ment  in  which  it  was  speedily  apparent  that  right  or  wrong,  Arius  was  his 
superior  in  disputation.  The  young  deacon  Athanasius  was  called  to  the 
rescue  of  his  discomfited  superior,  and  the  judgment  of  the  listeners  was 
that  thenceforth  Arius  had  the  worst  of  the  argument.  But  Arius  was  not 
to  be  argued  down.  In  his  church  and  elsewhere  he  continued  to  pro 
claim  his  opinions.  At  last  his  persistent  and  defiant  heterodoxy  forced 
the  archbishop  to  convoke  a  synod  of  his  clergy.  Before  this  synod  Arius 
came,  not  as  a  penitent  nor  even  as  a  defendant,  but  as  a  bold  aggressor, 
declaring  that  he  held  the  true  faith  and  that  his  enemies  were  the  real 
heretics.  This  was  probably  in  the  year  319. 

The  point  at  issue  in  the  controversy  was  as  to  the  position  of  the  Son 
in  the  Holy  Trinity.  Arius  maintained  that  the  Son  was  inferior  and  sub 
ordinate  to  the  Father.  The  very  nature  of  sonship,  he  declared,  neces 
sarily  implied  that  there  was  a  time  when  the  Son  did  not  exist,  and  a  time 
when  he  commenced  to  be;  hence  He  must  be  a  created  being,  a  creature; 
that  as  a  creature  He  could  not  even  fathom  His  own  Being;  that,  there 
fore,  in  essence,  the  Father  and  the  Son  were  unlike  to  all  infinity;  that 
consequently  there  could  be  no  identity,  but  only  a  resemblance  of  nature 
and  substance  between  the  Father  and  the  Son. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  in  its  ultimate  analysis  Arianism  was  a  polytheism. 
That  it  worshipped  God  the  Father,  who  was  a  very  God,  and  also  God 
the  Son,  who  was  only  a  deified  creature,  like  the  Greek  Hercules,  the 
Egyptian  Osiris  and  probably  the  Norse  Woden.  But  despite  the  weak 
ness  and  the  fallacy  of  the  theory,  it  was  defended  with  incomparable  zeal 
and  astucity,  and  secured  so  many  and  such  influential  adherents  that  the 
synod  shrank  from  the  invidious  duty  of  condemning  it.  Therefore,  its 
deliberations  were  devoid  of  substantial  results.  Arius,  thus  virtually  the 
victor,  was  encouraged  to  a  vigorous  propagandism,  and  by  his  energy, 
force  and  specious  reasoning  rapidly  added  to  the  already  large  number  of 
his  adherents.  The  archbishop,  faithful  to  his  duty  and  keenly  alive  to  the 
danger  threatening  the  church,  summoned  a  council  of  one  hundred  bishops 
of  Egypt,  Mareotis,  Pentapolis  and  Libya.  By  this  synod  Arius  was 
promptly  condemned,  and  a  vigorous  encyclical  letter  spread  the  sentence 
throughout  the  Primate's  jurisdiction. 

Within  three  years  from  the  Synod  of  Alexandria,  it  had  extended 
throughout  the  Christian  world,  creating  two  factions  that  warred  upon 
each  other  in  the  most  un-Christian  spirit,  bringing  disaster  and  deep 


272  ATHANASIUS 

disgrace  upon  the  church.  The  best  days  of  Greek  philosophy  produced 
nothing  approaching  this  controversy  in  dialectical  subtlety  and  finesse, 
and  had  the  disputants  been  content  to  use  only  these  intellectual  weapons, 
the  shame  of  the  church  would  have  been  much  less;  but  both  sides  being 
impervious  to  argument,  the  exasperation  of  protracted  and  fruitless  con 
tention  finally  impelled  laymen  and  ecclesiastics  alike  to  the  vilest  slander, 
to  intrigue,  and  eventually  to  personal  and  political  violence.  The  tongue 
of  slander  thus  loosed  has  not  spared  Athanasius,  but  I  am  prepared  to 
deny  that  his  conduct  exhibits  any  unworthy  action,  or  implies  any  motive 
but  a  sincere  and  lofty  piety. 

And  here  I  wish  to  say,  that  while  I  am  speaking  freely  in  condemna 
tion  of  the  weaknesses  of  the  early  Christians,  I  by  no  means  intend  to 
endorse  the  fallacious  argument  of  the  enemies  of  Christianity  who,  with 
wilful  injustice,  attribute  the  fault  to  the  church  rather  than  to  the  material 
upon  which  it  wrought.  There  was  never  a  time  when  Christianity  was 
not,  both  as  a  religion  and  as  a  system  of  ethics,  infinitely  superior  to  all 
others,  and  the  unprejudiced  mind  will  recognize  in  the  incomparable 
achievements  of  Christian  civilization  abundant  proof  of  that  fact. 

But  as  to  the  subject  we  are  now  considering,  I  need  not  rely  upon 
generalizations  of  my  own.  Mr.  Lecky,  in  his  history  of  European  morals, 
comparing  early  Christianity  with  paganism  and  speaking  only  as  a  moral 
ist,  says:  "The  high  conception  that  has  been  formed  of  the  sanctity  of 
human  life,  the  protection  of  infancy,  the  elevation  and  final  emancipation 
of  the  slave  classes,  the  suppression  of  barbarous  games,  the  creation  of  a 
vast  and  multifarious  organization  of  charity,  and  the  education  of  the 
imagination  by  the  Christian  type,  constitute  together  a  movement  of 
philanthropy  which  has  not  been  paralleled  or  approached  in  the  pagan 
world." 

I  intend  to  say  the  worst  that  can  be  said  of  the  Christianity  of  the 
fourth  century.  I  would  not  dare  even  to  hint  to  you  the  worst  that  is 
true  of  the  paganism  which  it  was  supplanting.  Its  pervading  and  fatal 
wickedness,  its  monstrous  crimes,  its  appalling  immoralities  and  hateful 
indecencies  paralyze  the  mind  and  the  imagination  and  defy  description. 
And  yet  I  would  not  be  understood  to  deny  that  even  in  that  old  decompos 
ing  paganism,  there  was  much  that  was  beautiful  and  good.  The 
pagans,  still  numerous  throughout  the  decaying  empire,  seized  eagerly 
upon  the  opportunity  afforded  by  the  Arian  schism  to  deride  and 
denounce  Christianity.  The  theatres  were  crowded  to  see  and  to  applaud 


ATHANASIUS  2/3 

satires  and  burlesques  upon  the  trinitarian  controversy.  The  very  street 
resounded  with  ribald  songs;  and  professional  wits,  in  all  ages  the  least 
endurable  of  men,  displayed  their  brightness  in  such  questions  as  this, 
addressed  to  the  women :  "Pray,  had  you  a  son  before  you  were  a  mother ?" 

In  the  midst  of  this  babel  of  confusion,  noise,  violence  and  scoffing,  one 
man  was  serene,  undismayed,  self-contained,  reverent,  determined.  Atha- 
nasius  alone  seems  to  have  realized  that  upon  the  determination  of  these 
questions  the  very  life  of  Christianity  depended.  In  mind  and  in  will 
he  was  of  finer  and  firmer  texture  than  any  man  of  his  time.  He 
was  the  man  ordained  by  Providence  for  the  time.  The  archbishop 
of  Alexandria  was  less  able,  less  pious,  less  courageous  than  Athanasius. 
When  the  storm  broke  in  its  full  fury  upon  him  as  the  represen 
tative  of  the  orthodox  party,  he  quailed  before  it,  and  but  for  the  sup 
port  of  his  deacon,  Athanasius,  would  have  succumbed.  Perceiving  this, 
and  recognizing  his  superior  abilities  and  invincible  courage,  the  Arians 
threw  the  weight  of  their  attack  against  Athanasius.  He  was  a  man  of 
insignificant  appearance,  and  that  fact  appears  to  have  been  particularly 
exasperating.  It  was  intolerable  that  this  little  fellow  should  be  able  to 
overcome  the  most  robust  champions  of  Arianism. 

The  disturbance  ere  long  made  itself  felt  in  politics.  The  great  Con- 
stantine,  then  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power  and  success,  attempted  by  his 
imperial  fiat  to  restore  harmony,  but  only  to  find  that  the  conqueror  of 
many  Caesars  was  powerless  to  deal  with  this  abstraction.  Threats  availed 
him  nothing  and  his  august  ridicule  fell  flat.  Disgusted  and  dismayed 
by  a  condition  for  which  his  practical  and  untrained  mind  could  find  no 
adequate  explanation,  and  nothing  like  justification,  he  was  finally  inspired 
to  a  course  whose  results  upon  the  subsequent  history  of  the  world  are 
incalculable.  He  determined  to  call  a  general  council  of  the  church. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  pause  here  and  enquire  what  the  church  was  at 
that  time.  I  have  mentioned  the  fact  that  in  the  year  303  the  reigning 
emperors  had  instituted  a  furious  persecution  of  the  Christians.  In  the  year 
313,  the  Emperor  Constantine  had  issued  a  decree  known  in  history  as  the 
edict  of  Milan,  by  which  he  proclaimed  toleration  of  Christianity.  In  the 
year  324  when  his  power  had  become  more  firmly  established,  he  issued  a 
general  edict  advising  all  his  subjects  to  follow  his  own  example  and  declare 
for  Christianity.  There  are  no  satisfactory  statistics  of  the  numerical 
strength  of  the  church  at  this  time,  but  we  have  the  authority  of  Gibbon 
for  the  statement  that  its  affairs  were  administered  by  1800  bishops,  of 

18 


274  ATHANASIUS 

whom  900  were  seated  in  the  Greek  provinces  and  800  in  the  Latin  prov 
inces.  If  there  had  been  uniformity  in  the  extent  or  population  of  the  dio 
ceses  we  might  easily  estimate  the  number  of  Christians,  but  there  was  no 
such  uniformity,  and  we  can  only  infer  from  the  number  of  bishops  that  a 
very  large  proportion  of  the  people  had  embraced  the  true  faith.  That  a 
majority  had  not  is  made  probable  by  the  fact  that  within  two  decades  of 
the  first  general  council  had  occurred  the  persecution  of  Maximian. 
That  the  Christians  were  the  active  and  growing  party  in  the  empire  we 
know,  and  it  is  probably  not  a  wholly  unjustified  suspicion  which  connects 
the  conversion  of  Constantine  with  that  fact.  The  trinitarian  controversy 
was  the  first  serious  check  to  the  growth  of  the  church.  Persecution  had 
been  unavailing,  but  this  internal  dissension  promised  the  most  disastrous 
results. 

The  place  selected  by  the  emperor  for  the  meeting  of  this  first  and 
greatest  ecumenical  council  was  the  city  of  Nicea,  in  Bithynia.  This 
ancient  Bithynia  was  a  part  of  the  present  Turkey  in  Asia  which  touches 
the  southern  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  and  of  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  Nicea 
was  centrally  located  and  was  easily  accessible  by  means  of  the  unequalled 
system  of  public  roads  that  tied  the  empire  together.  Thither  in  the 
spring  or  summer  of  325,  for  the  authorities  are  discordant  as  to  the  exact 
time,  came  some  300  bishops  and  2,000  inferior  clergymen.  Tradition  fixes 
the  number  of  bishops  at  318,  connecting  it  with  the  number  of  armed  ser 
vants  with  whom  Abraham  delivered  Lot  from  captivity,  and  with  certain 
other  features  of  the  arbitrary  and  fanciful  symbolism  which  was  so  much 
in  favor  among  the  early  Christians. 

The  Council  of  Nicea  was  not  called  for  the  sole  purpose  of  settling 
the  Arian  controversy,  but  that  subject  obscured  all  others,  and  we  may 
pass  with  simple  mention  the  fact  that  it  fixed  the  time  for  observing  Easter 
and  disposed  of  the  forgotten  heresy  of  Meletius.  The  great  work  of  the 
council  is  fully  .preserved  in  the  creed  which  perpetuates  its  name,  but  as 
to  many  minor  details  there  is  a  wide  disparity  of  authority.  It  is  certain  that 
most  of  the  bishops  were  from  the  East,  it  is  probable  that  the  first  meeting 
was  in  May,  and  that  the  dissolution  occurred  in  August;  that  the  delib 
erations  were  held  at  first  in  a  church  and  afterwards  in  a  hall  of  the  impe 
rial  palace  prepared  for  the  purpose.  Among  the  participants  were  many 
whose  names  fill  large  places  in  ecclesiastical  and  secular  history.  There 
were  men  of  all  languages,  and  of  all  the  multitude  of  races  subject  to  the 
sway  of  the  Caesars.  There  was  Paphnutius,  bishop  of  the  Thebaid,  the 


ATHANASIUS  275 

home  of  monasticism,  of  which  I  shall  speak  later.  This  venerable  prelate 
was  only  a  remnant  of  a  man.  One  foot  dragged  upon  the  floor,  because 
the  sinews  of  his  leg  had  been  cut  while  the  rancor  of  a  brief  successor  in 
office  had  sent  him  a  manacled  slave  to  toil  in  a  mine.  This  was  a  proof 
of  the  rarity  of  Christian  charity,  while  the  hollow  and  scorched  socket  of 
the  eye  which  had  been  burned  out  in  the  last  bitter  persecution  of  the 
Christians,  spoke  to  his  brethren  of  fearful  suffering  and  of  the  invincible 
fortitude  of  a  sublime  faith. 

The  thoughtful  mind  is  impressed  by  the  fact  that  in  the  youth  of  this 
mutilated  saint,  Christianity  was  a  helpless  prey  to  paganism,  while  in  his 
old  age  it  virtually  ruled  the  earth.  There  also,  says  Farrar,  "Paul,  bishop 
of  the  Mesopotamian  Neocaesarea,  uplifted  in  benediction  a  hand  which 
the  fire  had  scorched,"  and  the  rude  figure  of  James  of  Nisibis,  in  his  coat 
of  camel's  hair,  recalled  the  aspect  of  John  the  Baptist.  Others  were  from 
Potamon,  from  the  Nile  deserts,  and  Theophilus  from  the  far  Norseland, 
whose  viking  conquerors  became  the  militant  champions  of  the  Arian 
creed,  and  by  the  might  of  their  long  blades  maintained  it  for  centuries, 
not  only  in  their  fatherland,  but  in  Gaul,  in  Italy,  Spain  and  Africa.  For 
Alaric,  the  first  and  greatest  of  the  yellow-haired  Norsemen  who  vanquish 
ed  the  Roman  Eagles;  Genseric,  the  fierce  and  gentle  vandal  who  planted 
a  German  nation  on  the  hot  soil  of  Africa,  to  enjoy  a  brief  tenure  of  power, 
to  promise  for  a  season  the  rise  of  a  new  Carthage,  but  soon  to  yield  to  the 
enervations  of  a  tropical  climate;  and  also  Theodoric,  called,  not  without 
justice,  the  Great,  were  all  Arians,  and  all  through  the  teachings  of  one 
Ulfilas,  a  pupil  of  this  Theophilus  of  the  Nicene  Council. 

The  House  of  Bishops  included  many  of  the  most  learned  men  in  the 
church.  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  and  the  more  learned  Eusebius  of  Cae- 
sarea  were  nearest  of  all  to  the  royal  family  and  both  might  claim  a  wide 
spread  fame,  if  not  an  equally  extensive  approbation.  Arius  was  present; 
and  so  was  Alexander,  Primate  of  Egypt,  accompanied  by  his  secretary, 
Athanasius.  So  humble  was  the  office  of  Athanasius  that  some  pictures 
of  the  council  represent  him  as  sitting  on  the  floor,  but  it  is  said  that  his 
vehement  zeal  and  keen  logic  inspired  terror  in  all  his  enemies.  Arius 
had  many  able  and  influential  supporters,  and  it  was  evident  from  the 
first  that  the  struggle  would  be  a  hard  one. 

The  proceedings  were  long  delayed  by  the  tardiness  of  the  emperor, 
who  was  celebrating  at  Nicomedia  and  elsewhere  the  victories  which  a  few 
years  before  had  made  him  sole  master  of  the  civilized  world.  At  last  he 


276  ATHANASIUS 

came,  and  the  day  was  set  for  the  formal  opening  of  the  council.  Con- 
stantine  selected  the  anniversary  of  his  victory  over  Licinius,  the  last  of 
his  competitors.  That  summer  morning  presented  a  scene  worth  study 
ing.  Says  the  eloquent  Farrar:  "The  bishops  were  gathered  in  the  great 
hall  of  the  palace,  dilated,  as  it  were,  by  God."  They  were  seated  on  chairs 
ranged  about  the  center  of  the  hall,  while  the  inferior  members  sat  behind 
them  on  benches.  In  the  exact  center  of  the  hall  was  a  chair  on  which  lay 
a  copy  of  the  four  gospels,  symbolizing  the  presence  of  Christ.  The  em 
peror's  throne  was  at  one  end.  In  silence  the  assembled  representatives 
of  the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  awaited  the  coming  of  the  ruler  of  the  earth. 
A  sound  of  martial  music  proclaimed  the  emperor's  presence,  the  halls 
resounded  to  the  tramp  of  marching  men,  the  doors  were  thrown  open 
and  the  assembly  rose  as  one  man  to  receive  its  temporal  master.  Many 
of  these  simple-minded,  simple-mannered  men  of  God  now  beheld  the 
great  emperor  for  the  first  time.  They  knew  and  loved  him  as  the 
champion  and  protector  of  the  church,  but  their  distant  homes  had  never 
been  honored  by  his  august  presence. 

Constantine  deserves  more  than  passing  notice.  Gibbon  truly  says: 
''The  character  of  the  prince  who  removed  the  seat  of  empire  and  intro 
duced  such  important  changes  into  the  civil  and  religious  constitution  of 
his  country,  has  fixed  the  attention  and  divided  the  opinions  of  mankind. 
By  the  grateful  zeal  of  the  Christians,  the  deliverer  of  the  church  has  been 
decorated  with  every  attribute  of  a  hero,  and  even  of  a  saint;  while  the 
discontent  of  the  vanquished  party  has  compared  Constantine  to  the  most 
abhorred  of  those  tyrants  who  by  their  vice  and  weakness  dishonored  the 
imperial  purple."  But  these  beautifully  balanced  sentences  do  not  prevent 
the  great  historian  from  a  very  one-sided  estimate  of  Constantine.  In  this 
and  in  most  other  cases  of  the  kind,  the  middle  way  is  the  safest,  and  what 
ever  vices  may  darken  the  character  of  the  first  Christian  emperor,  it  is 
both  natural  and  right  that  Christians,  remembering  the  butcheries  of 
Nero,  Diocletian,  and  Maximian,  should  honor  and  praise  the  name  of 
Constantine;  and  impartial  history  has  established  his  claim  to  many 
virtues. 

Doubtless,  as  he  paused  in  the  doorway  of  the  council  hall  of  Nicea, 
every  heart  went  out  to  him  in  reverence  and  affection.  Physically,  he  was 
one  of  the  handsomest  men  of  his  day.  His  figure  was  far  above  the  usual 
stature  and  gracefully  moulded,  his  countenance  frank  and  majestic,  his 
demeanor  such  as  became  a  man  whose  word  was  the  law  of  the  earth. 


ATHANASIUS 


277 


He  was  clad  now,  not  in  the  simple  garb  of  a  Roman  patrician,  but  in  the 
splendid  vestments  of  Oriental  royalty.  His  diadem  of  purple  was  gar 
nished  with  the  rarest  gems  of  the  imperial  treasury,  a  robe  of  purple  silk 
glittering  with  embroidery  and  jewels  fell  from  his  massive  shoulders,  and 
not  less  than  these,  the  purple  buskins  which  none  but  an  emperor  might 
wear  indicated  his  purpose  to  honor  the  occasion.  It  is  related  that  as  he 
passed  down  the  aisle  to  his  throne,  a  blush,  visible  to  all  who  were  pres 
ent,  spread  over  his  countenance.  He  realized  that  he  was  in  the  presence 
of  the  representatives  of  a  majesty  infinitely  higher  than  his  own.  He  did 
not  seat  himself  until  signed  to  do  so  by  the  bishops.  To  an  elaborate  ora 
tion  by  Eusebius  of  Caesarea,  he  replied  briefly  in  Latin,  counseling  peace. 
But,  alas,  there  was  to  be  no  peace  for  many  years. 

Never  was  more  fervor  of  eloquence,  more  subtlety  of  reasoning  or 
refinement  of  logic  displayed  than  in  this  convention.  Arius  was  his 
own  champion,  and  found  in  Athanasius  his  most  astute  and  formidable 
antagonist.  The  point  of  the  contention  will  easily  be  found  by  turning 
to  the  creed,  where  it  is  said  of  the  Son  that  He  is:  "Begotten,  not  made: 
Being  of  one  substance  with  the  Father."  This  was  the  declaration  of 
Athanasius  and  his  associates.  That  the  Son  was  of  the  same  substance 
with  the  Father.  The  Arians  held  that  the  Son  was  of  like  substance  with 
the  Father  and  was  made,  not  begotten.  For  denoting  the  same  substance 
the  Athanasians  employed  the  Greek  word  "homoousios,"  while  the 
Arians  used  "homoiousios,"  meaning  of  like  substance.  And  so  Gibbon 
derides  the  Christians  and  calls  them  the  victims  of  a  diphthong. 

The  Apostles'  Creed  has  come  down  to  use  from  the  very  earliest  days 
of  Christianity.  Its  origin  as  a  definite  symbol  can  not  be  precisely  ascer 
tained.  The  creed  formulated  by  the  Council  of  Nicea  is  known  as  the 
Nicene  or  Athanasian  creed,  and  is  the  same  now  printed  in  the  prayer 
book,  except  that  it  ended  with  the  words  "we  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 
The  articles  that  follow  that  were  added  by  the  Council  of  Constantinople, 
A.  D.  381. 

When  Athanasius  went  to  Nicea  he  was  a  young  man,  but  little  known 
beyond  the  limits  of  his  native  city;  when  he  returned  his  fame  extended 
through  the  empire.  He  was  by  common  consent  the  leader  of  the  ortho 
dox  party.  No  member  of  the  council  had  contributed  half  so  much  as  he 
to  the  result.  Five  months  after  the  council,  the  archbishop  of  Alexandria 
died,  and  on  the  i8th  of  June,  326,  Athanasius  was  elected  his  successor. 
Many  older  men  were  passed  over,  for  the  times  demanded  that  the  best 


278  ATHANASIUS 

should  be  first.  For  forty-six  years  he  was  to  be  patriarch,  or  as  he  was 
called,  Pope  of  Alexandria.  The  title  of  Pope  was  not  given  exclusively 
to  the  bishop  of  Rome  until  A.  D.  385. 

I  regret  that  I  can  not  relate  the  subsequent  career  of  Athanasius  in 
detail.  It  has  all  the  fascination  and  excitement  of  a  romance.  I  know  of 
none  more  devoted,  heroic  or  admirable.  From  the  very  beginning  the 
Christian  people  of  Alexandria  evinced  for  him  a  passionate  devotion  which 
endured  to  the  end  of  his  life;  and  this  was  not  less  true  of  the  hundred 
bishops  and  the  multitude  of  priests  who  acknowledged  his  sway.  But  the 
Arians  hated  him  with  an  undying  and  an  un-Christian  hatred.  They 
challenged  the  validity  of  his  election,  and  no  slander  was  too  vile,  no 
falsehood  too  monstrous  or  absurd,  to  be  told  of  him.  At  first  they 
were  comparatively  powerless,  but  ere  long  gathered  support  and 
courage.  They  began  upon  him  a  warfare  of  unparalleled  bitterness 
and  ferocity.  Says  one  historian:  "They  never  suffered  him  to  enjoy 
the  comfort  of  a  peaceable  day."  There  are  no  darker  pages  in  the 
church's  history  than  those  that  record  the  deplorable  events  of  this  con 
troversy.  Calumny  and  falsehood  were  the  weapons  of  the  Arians  until 
they  were  strong  enough  to  use  force,  and,  while  no  just  reproach  attaches 
to  Athanasius,  his  followers  sometimes  endeavored  to  justify  the  adoption 
of  a  policy,  speciously  described  as  "fighting  the  devil  with  fire." 

Constantine  had  heartily  accepted  the  Nicene  Creed,  and  for  three 
years  Arius  suffered  exile.  His  followers,  known  now  as  the  Eusebians, 
succeeded,  through  their  influences  with  Constantia,  the  emperor's  sister, 
in  securing  his  recall.  Gradually  increasing  in  boldness,  they  demanded 
that  Arius  be  received  again  into  the  communion  of  the  Alexandrian  Church. 
The  emperor,  whose  faith  was  elastic  and  whose  capacity  to  comprehend 
the  subtleties  of  theology  was  extremely  moderate,  so  to  speak,  readily 
gave  the  order,  and  Athanasius  as  promptly  declined.  The  emperor  was 
enraged,  and  lent  a  ready  ear  to  certain  absurd  charges.  Athanasius  went 
to  Nicomedia,  met  Constantine,  confuted  his  enemies  and  returned  bear 
ing  a  highly  commendatory  letter  from  the  variable  Caesar.  In  a  little  while 
a  new  and  a  more  serious  charge  was  preferred  by  the  indefatigable  Euse 
bians.  They  charged  Athanasius  with  the  grave  crime  of  murder,  and 
the  still  more  atrocious  felony  of  practising  magic.  As  the  man  Arsenius, 
who  was  alleged  to  have  been  murdered,  was  proved  to  be  alive,  the  em 
peror  again  relented. 

This  was  in  333.    In  335  a  council  of  the  church  met  at  Tyre,  and  the 


ATHANASIUS  279 

charge  of  murdering  Arsenius  was  revived.  The  production  of  Arsenius 
in  proper  form  was  sufficient  to  convince  even  the  Arians  on  this  point. 
Then  they  charged  him  with  causing  the  desecration  of  a  church  and  the 
destruction  of  a  sacred  chalice.  It  was  clearly  shown  that  neither  church 
nor  chalice  had  ever  existed,  but  the  inexorable  Arians  never  admitted  it. 
Finally,  they  accused  him  of  stopping  the  corn  ships  bringing  supplies  from 
Alexandria  to  Constantinople.  They  could  not  prove  it,  and  it  was  not 
true,  but  the  emperor  was  worried  beyond  endurance  and,  by  an  extraor 
dinary  non  sequitur,  banished  Athanasius  to  Gaul  for  being  the  victim  of 
so  many  falsehoods. 

Arius  returned  to  Alexandria,  but,  engaging  himself  actively  in  foment 
ing  riots,  was  recalled.  He  thereupon  began  to  amuse  himself  by  present 
ing  to  the  emperor  numberless  creeds  so  ingeniously  constructed  that  Con- 
stantine,  becoming  hopelessly  confused,  decreed  finally  the  orthodoxy  of 
Arius,  presumably  as  a  measure  of  self-defense. 

Alexander,  Primate  of  Constantinople,  feeling  himself  too  weak  to 
resist  the  emperor's  command  to  admit  Arius  to  communion  in  the  church, 
Irene,  is  said  to  have  prostrated  himself  in  prayer  for  the  removal  of  the 
arch  heretic.  The  next  day  Arius  expired  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  the 
church;  his  manner  of  death  being  so  appalling  that  his  enemies  likened 
it  to  the  fate  of  Judas,  and  his  friends  attributed  it  to  poison.  This  was 
in  the  year  336.  In  the  spring  of  337,  Athanasius,  patiently  enduring  exile 
in  the  inhospitable  climate  of  Gaul,  heard  that  Constantine,  wearing  his 
white  baptismal  robe,  having  put  aside  the  imperial  purple,  was  lying  on  a 
white  bed  awaiting  death,  and  ministered  to  by  an  Arian  bishop.  On  the 
20th  of  May,  337,  the  defender  of  the  Cross  died.  He  left  the  empire 
divided  between  his  three  sons.  Constantine  was  to  reign  over  Gaul, 
Constantius  over  the  East,  and  Constans  over  Italy  and  the  West.  The 
three  emperors  met  and  amicably  partitioned  the  world,  and  were  pleased 
to  concur  in  the  restoration  of  Athanasius,  whose  return  to  Alexandria  in 
November,  338,  was  celebrated  with  illumination,  rejoicings  and  thanks 
givings. 

Instantly  the  implacable  enmity  of  the  Arians  was  alert.  The  old 
weapons  of  falsehood  and  slander  were  strenuously  employed.  There  was 
nothing  true  to  be  said  against  Athanasius,  but  he  was  overwhelmed  with 
calumny.  The  enraged  controversialists  halted  at  nothing  to  achieve 
their  purposes.  The  small  mind  of  the  little  Constantius  was  easily  poi 
soned;  and  in  March,  340,  he  appointed  one  Gregory  of  Cappadocia  to 


28O  ATHANASIUS 

displace  Athanasius.  Gregory,  hastening  to  Alexandria  under  a  strong 
escort,  instigated  Jews  and  pagans  to  unite  with  him  in  riot  and  pillage, 
and  illustrated  his  forcible  accession  by  a  series  of  almost  inconceivable 
atrocities.  Verily,  the  church  needed  to  be  purged  of  the  lingering  dross 
of  paganism. 

Athanasius  fled  with  infinite  difficulty  and  danger  into  the  dominion 
of  Constans,  one  of  the  most  dissolute  of  sovereigns,  but  a  man  of  the  most 
orthodox  theories.  Pope  Julius  received  the  illustrious  exile  with  kind 
ness  and  honor,  and  for  three  years  Athanasius  abode  in  the  West,  active 
in  all  good  works,  and  the  steadfast  and  aggressive  champion  of  the  Nicene 
Creed.  That  the  ablest  man  in  the  church  should  so  long  live  and  labor 
in  the  West  without  leaving  his  impress  for  good  behind  him  was  impos 
sible.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  with  Farrar,  that  he  fixed  the  theology  of 
Rome  as  he  established  in  the  West  the  monastic  practices  which  thereto 
fore  had  flourished  exclusively  in  the  East.  In  343  a  council  of  170  bish 
ops  met  at  Sardica  to  consider  his  case,  but  the  Eastern  bishops,  influenced 
by  the  Arians,  seceded  and  fled  by  night.  But  in  346  the  pseudo  bishop 
died  and  Constans  prevailed  upon  Constantius  to  revoke  the  edict  of  ban 
ishment.  On  the  2ist  of  October,  346,  the  exile  reached  Alexandria. 
The  city  poured  out  hundreds  of  thousands  of  exultant  men  and  women 
to  meet  him.  His  way  was  carpeted,  that  his  feet  might  not  touch  the 
ground.  The  housetops  were  alive  with  multitudes  who  showered  incense 
and  flowers  upon  him  and  rent  the  skies  with  their  acclamations.  This 
home-coming  became  a  proverb  of  joy  and  festivity.  For  five  years 
Athanasius  enjoyed  comparative  immunity  from  official  persecution  and 
personal  violence,  but  during  all  these  years  the  tongue  of  calumny  wag 
ged  incessantly.  In  the  year  353  Constans  died  and  Constantius  was  lord 
of  the  reunited  empire.  Constantius  was  devoid  of  ability,  but  opulent  in 
vanity.  Having  a  mind  of  the  narrowest  compass  and  feeblest  powers, 
wholly  untrained  as  a  thinker  and  incapable  of  discrimination,  he  unhap 
pily  believed  himself  competent  to  solve  the  profoundest  questions  of  the 
ology  and  to  restore  to  the  church  by  his  imperial  fiat  its  long  lost  peace. 
His  proclivity  for  theology  would  have  been  amusing  in  a  person  less  capa 
ble  of  giving  effect  to  his  vagaries.  But  when  this  imperial  Bottom  thrust 
his  ears  into  the  controversy  only  one  result  could  follow.  The  con 
fusion  was  infinitely  worse  confounded.  Constantius  developed  an 
insatiable  appetite  for  verbal  quibbles  despite  their  total  incomprehen 
sibility  to  his  feeble  intellect.  He  delighted  in  calling  councils  and  imi- 


ATHANASIUS  28 1 

tating  the  methods  of  his  father.  He  is  called  a  semi-Arian,  and  one  of 
his  councils  in  the  year  356  procured  the  third  banishment  of  Athanasius. 

At  midnight,  on  the  i8th  of  February,  356,  while  Athanasius  and  his 
people  were  holding  a  vigil  service,  an  imperial  army  of  5,000  men  sur 
rounded  the  church,  broke  down  the  doors  and  poured  into  the  building. 
Discharging  flight  after  flight  of  arrows,  they  slew  men,  women  and  chil 
dren  alike.  Many  of  the  sacred  virgins  were  shot  down  before  the  altar 
and  heavy  armed  mercenaries  trampled  upon  the  bodies  of  the  fallen  as 
they  marched  down  the  aisles  toward  the  episcopal  throne  where  Athana 
sius  sat  urging  the  people  to  prayer.  He  resisted  every  entreaty  to  escape 
until  the  church  was  cleared  of  all  the  congregation  who  were  not  dead  or 
disabled,  and  then  his  friends  seized  him,  and  dragged  him  more  dead 
than  alive,  through  the  disorderly  soldiery  to  a  place  of  safety. 

He  now  fled  to  the  wilderness  of  Thebais.  This  Thebais  is  worthy  our 
notice.  It  was  the  home  of  monasticism.  Monasticism  of  the  kind  of 
which  St.  Simeon  Stylites  is  the  most  striking  exemplar.  You  will  recall 
that  that  holy  man  raised  in  the  mountains  of  Syria  a  pillar  sixty  feet  high, 
whereon,  exposed  to  all  changes  of  the  weather,  he  abode  through  thirty 
years  of  constant  self-torture.  On  one  day  he  was  seen  to  bend  his  fore 
head  to  his  feet  1,244  times  in  succession,  as  we  have  the  account  from 
Gibbon.  In  the  days  of  Athanasius  many  thousands  of  monks  dwelt  in 
the  deserts  of  Libya  and  of  the  Thebais  south  of  Alexandria.  St.  Antony, 
the  friend  of  Athanasius,  gathered  a  colony  of  five  thousand  who  dwelt  in 
fifty  monasteries.  On  the  barren  island  of  Tabenne  fourteen  hundred 
hermits  surrounded  the  Abbott  Pachomius.  The  Egyptian  city  of 
Oxyrinchus  was  the  exclusive  abode  of  twenty  thousand  virgins  and  ten 
thousand  monks,  and  at  the  end  of  the  Fourth  century,  in  nearly  every 
part  of  Egypt,  the  monastic  population  was  almost  equal  to  the  population 
of  the  cities.  Monachism  was  born  in  Egypt  and  for  centuries  flourished 
there  as  no  where  else. 

I  am  not  the  apologist  of  monachism,  but  I  dare  affirm  that  every  man 
of  ideal  temperament  and  fine  sensibilities,  every  man  who  .values  the 
spiritual  above  the  material,  who  has  come  to  realize  that  the  world  has  no 
satisfactions,  offers  few  responses  to  the  cravings  of  his  better  nature,  must 
in  some  measure  be  attracted  by  an  institution  which  affords  absolute  re 
tirement  from  affairs,  and  requires  perfect  self-abnegation  and  the  con 
secration  of  every  faculty  to  the  service  of  the  Creator.  We  protestants 
are  quick  to  condemn  the  system,  but  we  will  judge  it  more  leniently  if 


282  ATHANASIUS 

we  stop  to  remember  how  many  a  broken  heart  found  rest  and  peace  in 
the  cloister  in  those  dark  ages  through  which  the  church  was  civilizing  our 
race.  During  all  those  ages,  too,  the  cloister  was  the  home  of  philosophy, 
of  literature,  of  art.  The  monasteries  and  the  convents,  despite  all  that 
the  enemies  of  the  church  have  written,  were  lighthouses  of  knowledge,  of 
art  and  science,  as  well  as  of  virtue  and  piety.  I  concede  that  they  are  not 
in  accord  with  the  genius  of  protestantism,  that  they  are  utterly  opposed 
to  the  utilitarian  spirit  of  our  modern  life,  but  I  am  not  in  accord  with 
the  flippant  and  ungenerous  criticism  which  we  so  often  hear.  I  will 
protest  in  any  presence  my  admiration  for  the  man  or  woman  who  is  capa 
ble  of  absolute  devotion  to  an  ideal,  and  I  can  not  repress  a  degree  of 
approval  for  an  institution  which  incessantly  wars  against  the  animal 
man  in  behalf  of  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  man.  The  monks  of 
Egypt  eschewed  all  the  comforts,  and  not  a  few  of  what  to  us  are 
the  decencies  of  life.  They  clothed  themselves  in  rags  or  skins,  sub 
sisted  on  roots  and  herbs,  and  for  shelter  built  rude  hovels  which  they 
left  bare  and  unfurnished,  dwelt  in  the  caverns  of  the  hills  and  even  fought 
with  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  for  possession  of  their  lairs. 

Into  this  community  Athanasius  fled,  and  if  he  found  rough  fare  he 
found  also  true  and  loving  hearts,  and  for  six  years  he  dwelt  safely  in  the 
wilderness.  Now  and  then  he  might  enjoy  a  brief  rest  in  some  monastery, 
but  most  of  his  days  were  spent  hiding  in  solitude  or  in  swift  flight  from 
the  tireless  emissaries  of  his  inveterate  enemies.  Some  day  I  doubt  not 
the  genius  of  romance  will  be  attracted  to  these  six  adventurous  and  excit 
ing  years  of  Athanasius  among 

"Antres  vast  and  deserts  idle." 

During  these  trying  years  Athanasius  found  time  to  do  probably  his 
best  literary  work.  At  the  end  of  six  years  Julian  the  Apostate  was  emperor 
and  St.  George,  by  some  said  to  be  the  patron  saint  of  the  English,  sat  on  the 
episcopal  throne  of  Alexandria.  This  George  was  a  reformed  contractor  of 
pork  for  the  army  and  an  exceptionally  disreputable  individual,  and  when 
the  pagans  of  Alexandria  seized  him  and  literally  kicked  him  to  death,  burned 
his  body  and  cast  his  ashes  into  the  sea,  the  apostate  emperor  contempt 
uously  allowed  Athanasius  to  return.  He  remained  one  year,  and  again  fled 
from  the  death  warrant  of  the  emperor.  He  returned  to  the  wilderness,  but 
remained  for  only  a  part  of  the  year  363.  Thus,  four  times  he  was  ban 
ished  for  his  faith,  and  four  times  returned  to  proclaim  that  same  faith. 


ATHANASIUS  283 

But  the  end  was  not  yet.  On  October  5,  365,  the  Emperor  Valens  decreed 
his  fifth  banishment.  Barely  escaping  with  his  life,  he  hid  himself  for  four 
months  in  the  tomb  of  his  father  until  the  decree  was  revoked.  Then  all 
Alexandria,  led  by  one  of  his  trusted  friends,  went  out  to  him,  and  con 
ducted  him  with  song  and  rejoicing  once  more  to  the  home  from  which  no 
ruler  of  the  earth  was  ever  to  banish  him  again,  but  where  he  dwelt  at  last 
in  peace  through  six  years,  when,  in  the  fullness  of  age,  after  a  life  of  un- 
equaled  vicissitudes  and  inestimable  usefulness,  he  was  called  from  the 
church  militant  to  the  church  triumphant. 

After  all  his  wanderings  he  died  at  home;  after  all  his  dangers  and 
persecutions,  he  died  in  peace.  In  spite  of  all  that  the  malice  and  falsehood 
of  enemies  could  invent,  he  died  honored  more  than  any  other  man  of  his 
time.  He  lived  to  see  the  conspirators  who  had  persecuted  him  through 
half  a  century  pass  to  their  reward,  and  to  know  that  the  cause  to  which 
he  had  given  his  life  was  at  last  triumphant.  The  second  great  council 
of  the  church  assembled  at  Constantinople  eight  years  after  his  death  and 
confirmed  the  Nicene  Creed,  and  we  to-day  repeat  from  our  prayer  books 
the  very  words  which  Athanasius  put  there  more  than  fifteen  centuries 
ago,  and  in  behalf  of  whose  truth  he  lived  a  noble  life. 


THE  TATER-BUG  PARSON.* 

HE  Tater-Bug  meeting-house  is  situated  in  Pawpaw  Hollow. 
There  are  a  great  many  pawpaw  hollows  in  name  and  in 
fact  in  East  Tennessee,  but  this  particular  one  is  easily  dis 
tinguished.  For  one  thing,  the  meeting-house  is  a  distinguish 
ing  feature.  Then  it  lies  just  to  the  east  of  the  Sevierville  road,  a  quar 
ter  of  a  mile  beyond  Dick  Ballord's  House  (which  is  in  the  fork  of  the 
road),  and  runs  right  over  Tuckahoe  Creek.  Not  across  the  creek, 
but  literally  over  it,  for  up  above  at  Squire  Keith's  place  Tuckahoe  runs 
out  of  the  ground,  and  then  drives  furiously  right  against  the  ridge  and 
disappears,  boring  its  way  through  to  come  out  miles  away  on  the  west 
side. 

The  meeting-house  was  originally  built  of  logs,  but  the  temporary 
presence  of  a  saw  mill  many  years  ago  enabled  the  Tater-Bugs  to  cover 
the  logs  with  planks.  At  first  the  windows  were  ten  feet  long  by  two 
feet  high,  and  unglazed.  The  shutters  were  of  plank  with  strap  hinges 
at  the  top,  and  were  held  up  at  meeting  time  by  sticks  of  firewood.  They 
extended  nearly  one-third  the  length  of  the  building.  However,  when 
the  sawmill  came,  the  spirit  of  innovation  got  abroad  on  Tuckahoe,  and, 
as  Dick  Ballord  expressed  it, "the  winders  was  eended  up"  and  glazed. 
It  must  not  be  understood,  however,  that  they  were  made  ten  feet  high 
and  two  feet  wide.  They  were  three  feet  and  four  inches  high  and  two 
feet  wide,  and  the  glass  was  eight  inches  by  ten.  The  glass  did  not  last 
long.  Sometimes  the  men  and  women  would  test  its  strength  by  a  push, 
generally  with  disastrous  results;  sometimes  a  boy  would  shy  a  pebble 
or  a  hickory  nut  through  one  of  the  fragile  panes;  and  once,  when  Dick 
Ballord's  lame  mule,  which  was  always  hungry,  and  always  foraging, 
chanced  upon  the  meeting-house,  it  had,  in  a  spirit  of  investigation,  thrust 
its  head  through  one  of  the  windows,  thereby  demolishing  glass,  wood 
work  and  all.  After  this,  the  Tater-Bugs  concluded  to  put  shutters 
on  the  windows;  but  the  public  spirit  had  subsided  and  after  two  shutters 
had  been  put  up,  the  nails  had  given  out,  and  for  years  the  finances  had 
never  been  sufficiently  recruited  to  justify  the  completion  of  an  under 
taking,  which,  it  must  be  admitted,  had  not  been  unanimously  approved . 

"Published  in  Worthington's  Magazine,  October,  1893,  by  "John  P.  Russell."  (285  ) 


286 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON 


At  another  time  it  had  been  determined  to  erect  a  fence  around  the  house. 
Squire  Keith  had  given  the  timber,  and  Dick  Ballord  and  Jake  Mullins 
had  agreed  to  split  the  rails;  but  just  then  Jake  had  a  violent  attack  of 
the  "yaller  janders"  and  before  he  recovered,  it  had  been  time  to  "lay 
by"  the  corn,  and  the  rails  were  never  made.  In  this  condition  the  house 
and  its  appurtenant  demesnes  were  left  until  Parson  Algin  came  to  preach 
at  the  Hollow. 

The  Tater-Bugs  were  Baptists  of  the  variety  usually  called  "Hard 
shell."  How  they  got  the  name  "Tater-Bugs"  I  do  not  know.  I  first 
heard  it  from  John  Dingan  who  married  Squire  Keith's  cousin  and  lived 
on  the  hill  between  Dick  Ballord's  and  the  Squire's.  They  are  never 
called  anything  else  on  Tuckahoe.  Dingan  is  not  a  Tater-Bug  himself; 
indeed  I  am  bound  to  say  that  he  appears  to  be  entirely  without  religious 
affiliations  or  convictions,  though  he  is  called  as  "clever"  a  man  as  there 
is  on  Tuckahoe. 

When  the  planks  were  put  on  the  meeting-house,  and  the  windows 
"eended  up"  and  glazed,  Dingan  and  the  Squire  furnished  half  of  the 
money  and  the  Tater-Bugs  half.  A  good  part  of  the  latter  half  was  con 
tributed  by  Bob  Ballord,  Dick's  brother,  who  worked  for  Squire  Keith 
for  thirteen  dollars  a  month,  with  "vittles  an'  lodgin'." 

The  meetings  of  the  Tater-Bugs  were  held  on  the  fourth  Sunday 
in  every  month,  and  on  such  other  Sundays  and  week  days  as  preachers 
could  be  found  in  the  "settlem^w/."  The  regular  fourth  Sunday  was  a 
big  time,  as  they  say  on  Tuckahoe.  The  preacher,  Thomas  Algin,  con 
ducted  the  Sunday-school  at  8  o'clock  in  the  morning,  "reglar  meetin'  ' 
at  10  o'clock,  "evenin'  sarvice"  at  2  o'clock,  and  a  final  devotional  exer 
cise  at  "early  can'le  light." 

But  the  biggest  time  was  when  the  "pertracted  meetin'  "  was  held. 
These  "pertracted"  occasions,  which  were  invariably  characterized  by 
a  copious  and  reviving  outpour  of  spiritual  refreshment,  occurred  twice 
a  year,  in  April  and  October.  Sometimes  the  "town  preacher"  from 
Knoxville  came  up  to  assist. 

The  town  parson  was  a  very  superior  man,  but  I  have  never  known 
any  one  who  would  stand  comparison  with  Algin  in  his  own  pulpit.  Lar- 
kin  Biggs,  who  was  the  Nestor  of  the  Tater-bugs,  voiced  the  sentiment 
of  the  community  when  he  said  that  he  "lowed  that  Tom  Algin  was  the 
peartest  man  in  S'vere  County."  Squire  Keith  divided  with  him  the 
affections  of  Tuckahoe,  but  the  Squire  was  not  a  Baptist,  though  many 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON  287 

were  the  devout  and  fervent  supplications  which  ascended  from  Paw 
paw  Hollow,  that  the  good  neighbor  might  be  led  to  see  the  error  of  his 
way,  and  seek  the  "salvation  of  his  immortal  parts."  The  Squire  at- 
terided  the  Tater-Bug  meetings  because  there  were  no  Presbyterian 
meetings  and  he  never  argued  with  his  neighbors.  He  had  no  difficulty 
in  accepting  for  himself  the  doctrines  of  John  Calvin  and  John  Knox 
in  their  least  mitigated  form.  But,  believing  as  he  did,  that  the  truth 
and  the  whole  truth  was  embodied  in  the  Westminster  confession  of 
faith,  he  held,  in  common  with  his  neighbors,  a  high  opinion  of  Tom 
Algin. 

The  preacher  was  not  a  native  of  Tuckahoe.  He  had  first  appeared 
in  the  country  a  little  more  than  two  years  before  the  time  of  this  history. 
His  home  was  on  the  South  Fork  of  Pigeon  River.  It  was  said  he  had 
come  from  North  Carolina.  He  had  for  his  charge  three  churches  be 
sides  Pawpaw  Hollow;  one  on  Dumpling,  one  on  Pigeon,  and  one  away 
up  on  "Chucky."  Between  these  he  apportioned  his  time  equally.  He 
is  a  blonde  with  tawny  hair  and  beard,  and  deep-set,  deep-blue  eyes, 
and  is  almost  a  perfect  man  physically. 

I  do  not  say  that  he  is  highly  educated.  A  critic  might  find  many 
faults  in  his  style.  But  criticism  of  that  kind  is  unknown  on  Tuckahoe. 
In  politics  and  in  polemic  theology  the  entire  population  is  gifted  and 
strong,  but  these  consume  its  critical  and  dialectic  powers.  Algin's  pres 
ence  is  pleasing,  his  voice  strong  and  musical,  and  if  now  and  then  his 
pronunciation  is  inaccurate  or  provincial,  or  his  singulars  and  plurals 
not  properly  related,  his  discourses  are  sensible,  and  at  times  he  is  very 
impressive.  Squire  Keith  says  he  is  eloquent. 

When  he  had  finished  his  first  sermon  he  paused,  and  then  said: 
''My  friends,  it  is  well  for  us  to  understand  each  other  in  the  beginning. 
I  hope  to  break  the  bread  of  life  to  you  for  many  days  to  come,  but  I 
say  to  you  frankly  that  unless  this  house  is  repaired,  I  will  not  preach 
in  it.  If  you  do  not  choose  to  repair  it,  I  will  have  services  in  the  open 
air  when  the  weather  permits,  and  when  it  doesn't  permit,  I  will  go  home. 
It  is  not  respectful  to  the  Lord  to  meet  in  such  a  house.  You  will  receive 
the  benediction." 

The  next  time  he  came  to  Tuckahoe  the  meeting-house  had  under 
gone  such  a  change  that  he  hardly  knew  it.  The  windows  were  fresh- 
glazed  and  shuttered,  and  the  church  yard  enclosed  by  a  substantial 
post  and  rail  fence.  The  inside  of  the  building  was  resplendent.  It 


288  THE   TATER-BUG    PARSON 

had  been  ceiled  and  painted.  The  painting  might  have  been  unsatis 
factory  to  a  conventionally  aesthetic  eye,  but  on  Tuckahoe  taste  is  prim 
itive.  The  color  was  a  bright  but  extremely  positive  blue  and  was  the 
same  on  walls  and  ceiling.  The  ordinary  eye  could  hardly  endure  it  on 
a  sunshiny  day,  but  I  am  sure  that  no  pride  was  ever  greater  or  more 
justifiable  than  that  which  the  good,  honest  Tater-Bugs  felt  when  they 
looked  upon  this  masterpiece  of  decoration.  It  was  their  own  taste. 
They  had  bought  the  paint  with  their  own  money,  and  Larkin  Biggs's 
son  Rad,  who  built  wagons  and  painted  them,  had  done  the  work.  Algin 
did  not  know  of  it  until  it  was  all  done;  and  when  he  first  entered  the 
room  and  felt  as  if  he  were  immersed  in  a  sea  of  bright  blue,  he  cordially 
commended  the  improvements,  and  thus  became  radicated  in  the  affec 
tions  of  Tuckahoe. 

As  time  went  on,  it  was  noticed  that  Algin  began  to  linger  longer 
on  Tuckahoe  than  at  first.  After  a  while  ;it  came  to  be  whispered  about, 
that  the  cause  of  these  lingerings  was  Mary  Hetherly,  the  daughter  of 
Widow  Hetherly.  The  widow  was  very  well-to-do.  Like  Squire  Keith, 
she  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  so,  of  course,  was  her  daughter.  It  was 
no  wonder  that  Algin  was  attracted  by  Mary.  She  had  never  lived  in 
town,  and  did  not  dress  like  town  girls,  but  she  was  of  a  fair  presence, 
healthy,  sensible,  and  tolerably  well  educated. 

Such  mechanical  adjuncts  of  worship  as  organs,  or  even  melodeons, 
had  not  at  that  day  penetrated  to  Pawpaw  Hollow.  The  only  instru 
ment  of  sacred  music  was  the  human  voice.  Algin  could  sing  the  good 
old  hymns  well  enough;  but  he  was  not  a  trained  musician,  and  one  day 
in  the  midst  of  a  stanza  of  "There  is  a  fountain,"  a  good  sister  in  the 
congregation  got  them  all  so  very  high  up,  that  when  the  next  stanza 
was  reached,  the  Parson  attempted  in  vain  to  get  down  to  the  proper 
key.  Twice  he  tried,  but  failed  utterly.  Several  titters  were  audible. 
Algin  was  about  to  close  his  book  in  despair,  when  a  rich  sweet  voice 
took  up  the  tune,  and  carried  it  safely  to  the  end,  despite  the  sister's 
persistent  falsetto. 

This  was  his  first  sight  of  Mary  Hetherly.  The  introduction  which 
followed  grew  into  a  cordial  friendship.  Presently  people  began  to  won 
der  whether  it  would  not  go  further.  Larkin  Biggs  and  "  'Rayshur" 
(Horatio)  Petit,  the  senior  Tater-Bugs,  "lowed"  that  "hit  was  all  right 
purvidin'  Mary  jined  the  church."  This  was  said  while  'Rayshur  was 
visiting  Larkin,  which  he  did  every  day.  "Mis'  Biggs  (Mis'  being  always 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON  289 

used  on  Tuckahoe  for  Mistress)  was  present,  and  the  next  time  Algin 
came  that  way,  she  said  to  him,  in  the  presence  of  all  her  sons  and  daugh 
ters,  there  being  many  of  both:  "Parson,  I  heerd  Larkin  and  'Rayshur 
lowin'  t'other  day  that  you  an'  Mary  hed  sorter  fixed  things  up."  Algin 
blushed  and  was  confused,  and  got  away  as  soon  as  he  could.  It  was 
noticed  that  after  meeting  he  did  not  as  usual  go  to  dinner  with  Mary 
Hetherly  and  her  mother,  but  accepted  instead  the  hearty  invitation 
of  John  Dingan.  When  he  came  a  month  later  he  greeted  Mary  with 
grave  courtesy,  but  did  not  again  speak  to  her. 

Things  went  on  thus  for  several  months.  Algin  never  failed  to  pay 
his  respects  to  the  widow  and  her  handsome  daughter,  but  the  old  inti 
macy  was  broken  off.  Mary  began  to  treat  him  coolly.  She  came  less 
frequently  to  the  meetings,  and  it  was  noticed  that  usually  when  she 
did  come  she  was  escorted  by  her  cousin,  Washington  Hickling.  Wash, 
as  he  was  called,  was  studying  medicine  with  the  neighborhood  doctor. 
He  was  a  bright  sort  of  fellow,  but  tremendously  conceited  both  as  to 
his  person  and  as  to  his  intellect.  His  pride  of  profession  was  already 
great.  It  is  true  that  having  been  called,  in  the  absence  of  his  preceptor, 
to  the  delicate  duty  of  assisting  a  lady  of  the  vicinage  at  the  birth  of  twins, 
he  had  been  unfortunate  enough  to  lose  both  the  mother  and  the  twins; 
but  he  had  explained  the  casualty  in  terms  so  learned  that  nobody  on 
Tuckahoe  knew  in  the  least  what  he  meant,  and,  therefore,  it  was  gener 
ally  conceded  that  it  was  the  fault  of  the  mother  or  of  the  twins.  And 
certainly  his  self-esteem  suffered  no  abatement. 

Wash,  who  was  very  much  in  love  with  his  cousin,  was  fully  advised 
as  to  the  extent  of  her  worldly  possessions  and  prospects.  He  had  never 
liked  Algin.  The  two  were  as  unlike  as  could  be,  and  Mary  Hetherly 's 
intimacy  with  the  Parson  had  begotten  in  the  nascent  Esculapius  first 
a  bitter  jealousy,  and  then  a  positive  hatred.  Larkin  Biggs,  who  is  said 
on  Tuckahoe  to  have  a  "long  head,"  said  to  'Rayshur  about  the  time 
when  all  this  occurred:  "I  tell  ye,  Wash  Hickling's  a  bad  aig.  His 
pappy  was  a  bushwhacker,  an'  b'longed  to  the  gang  that  stole  Joe  Keith's 
hoss.  Ef  Wash  ain't  mean  he  ought  to  be,  an'  I  b'leve  he  is." 

Wash's  "pappy"  had  been  a  Tater-Bug;  but  Wash  himself  made 
some  claim  to  infidelity,  believing  that  there  was  a  necessary  connection 
between  infidelity  and  superior  mental  powers.  When  Algin  and  Mary 
began  to  fall  apart,  Wash  was  naturally  pleased.  He  had  the  good  judg 
ment  to  cease  his  contemptuous  references  to  "Tater-Bug  parsons, "and  to 

19 


2QO  THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON 

devote  himself  assiduously  to  entertaining  and  pleasing  his  cousin.  Mary 
was  perhaps  grateful,  and  was  especially  gracious  to  Wash  in  Algin's 
presence. 

Feminine  nature  is  very  much  the  same  on  Tuckahoe  as  elsewhere. 
The  girl  was  very  much  in  love  with  Algin,  and  in  secret  shed  not  a  few 
tears  over  his  apparent  unfaithfulness.  Wash  was  delighted.  He  went 
everywhere  with  Mary;  and  even  allowed  her  to  ride  to  the  Stallins  "in- 
fair"  on  his  celebrated  single-footing  filly,  an  act  of  unprecedented  gen 
erosity,  for  Wash  was  as  much  noted  for  selfishness  and  stinginess  as  the 
filly  was  for  single-footing.  Once  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm  and  con 
fidence,  he  declared  to  Rad  Biggs  that  the  little  knoll  under  the  big  oak 
tree  by  the  widow's  front  gate,  would  be  a  splendid  site  for  a  doctor's 
office.  When  Rad  asked:  "Gwine  to  put  yourn  thar?"  he  smiled  know 
ingly. 

Larkin  and  'Rayshur  were  deeply  chagrined  by  the  course  of  affairs. 
They  were  indignant  with  the  Parson.  Mis'  Biggs  was  a  lady  of  large 
powers  of  observation  and  conversation,  and  did  not  fail  to  remark  some 
what  frequently  in  a  most  pointed  way,  to  both  Larkin  and  'Rayshur, 
that  they  "knowed  a  mighty  sight  'bout  sich  things."  Mis'  Petit,  to 
whom  all  the  facts  hereinbefore  recited  were  fully  known,  efficiently 
aided  Mis'  Biggs  in  making  things  unpleasant  for  Larkin  and  'Rayshur. 
The  two  ancient  cronies  began  to  spend  much  of  their  time  at  Hamilton's 
store  in  order  to  avoid  the  observations  of  their  respective  ladies. 

It  will  readily  be  understood  therefore  that  they  were  vastly  relieved 
when  affairs  suddenly  took  a  turn.  On  the  fourth  Sunday  in  July  every 
body  noticed  that  Parson  Algin,  as  soon  as  meeting  "broke,"  went  up 
to  Mary  Hetherly,  spoke  to  her  very  earnestly  in  a  very  low  voice,  and 
then  walked  down  the  road  with  her.  She  treated  him  coldly  enough, 
but  nodded  assent  to  his  request  to  walk  with  her.  Everybody  looked 
at  everybody  else,  except  Wash  Hickling,  who  looked  only  at  Mary  and 
Algin.  On  the  fourth  Sunday  in  August  the  same  thing  occurred,  except 
that  the  lady  was  perceptibly  more  cordial.  Dr.  Hickling  was  not  at 
meeting. 

Larkin  and  'Rayshur,  being  men  of  spirit,  did  not  fail  meanwhile 
to  make  the  most  of  the  situation,  and  Mis'  Biggs  and  Mis'  Petit  began 
carefully  to  avoid  a  subject  which  a  little  while  before  had  occupied  much 
of  their  time.  The  daily  meetings  on  Larkin's  porch  were  resumed. 
The  ladies  at  first  hoped  that  things  might  change  again,  but  when  the 


THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON  2QI 

Parson  came  and  spent  a  week  on  Tuckahoe  and  went  every  day  to  the 
widow's  they  felt  that  they  were  hoping  against  hope.  Mis'  Biggs,  with  very 
ill-assumed  indifference,  ventured  one  afternoon  to  ask  'Rayshur  when 
the  "merridge  was  gwine  to  be?"  Larkin  and  'Rayshur  laughed  so 
outrageously,  however,  that  the  good  lady  retired  in  confusion  and  anger. 

The  summer  wore  away  and  September  came  and  passed  and  all 
Tuckahoe,  as  Larkin  put  it,  "was  cleanin'  up  an'  rollin'  pie  crust,"  pre 
paratory  to  the  "big  meetin'."  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  Misses 
Biggs  were  out  by  the  wood-pile  milking.  Their  mother  was  standing  on 
the  chopping-log  with  her  arms  akimbo,  calling  the  hogs.  Calling  the 
hogs  consisted  in  expanding  her  lungs  to  their  utmost  capacity  and  then 
uttering  with  their  full  strength  a  long-drawn  sonorous  cry  which  could  be 
heard  for  miles  away — "Pigoo-pigoo-oo-oooo."  This  was  immediately 
followed  by  three  short  guttural  porcine  grunts,  "peeg,  peeg,  peeg." 
These  last  were  intended  for  such  porkers  as  were  at  hand;  the  long- 
drawn  and  ear-splitting  "pigoo"  for  such  as  had  taken  themselves,  as 
some  of  Larkin's  pigs  would,  to  Hamilton's  or  Hickman's  field.  Mis' 
Biggs  paused  to  take  breath,  and  looking  down  the  road,  saw  Larkin 
actually  running. 

"Lordy,  massy,"  she  gasped,  "Look  at  that  ole  simpleten.  Larkin 
Biggs,  stop;  you'll  get  asmy  or  palpytation,  shore.  Stop,  you  fool,  what 
on  airth  is  the  matter?" 

Larkin  sat  down  on  the  wood-pile  and  tried  to  refill  his  exhausted 
lungs.  For  a  time  it  seemed  as  if  he  would  never  succeed.  Mis'  Biggs 
seized  the  corners  of  her  check  apron  and  fanned  him  vigorously. 

When  he  was  able  to  speak,  his  first  words  were: 

"Ther  Parson's  merried!" 

"Land  sakes,"  cried  his  wife.  "Air  you  crazy,  Larkin?  When  wuz 
they  merried?" 

"Ten  y-years  'go,"  wheezed  Larkin. 

"Ten  years  ago,"  screamed  Mis'  Biggs.  "Do  you  think  I'm  a  born'd 
eejit,  Larkin  Biggs,  to  b'leve  that  Mary  Hetherly  was  merried  ten  years 
ago?" 

"I  don't  mean  her,"  cried  Larkin,  getting  his  wind.  "He's  got  a 
wife  in  No'th  Carliny." 

Mis'  Biggs  could  not  find  words.  She  threw  up  both  hands  with  a 
gesture  of  despair.  Her  daughters  exhausted  the  exclamatory  vocab 
ulary  of  Tuckahoe.  The  old  lady  had  to  sit  down.  Larkin  silently  en- 


2Q2  THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON 

joyed  the  sensation  he  had  created.  When  his  wife  had  gotten  her  wits 
together,  she  demanded  with  asperity: 

"Who  tole  ye  sich  a  thing,  Larkin  ?" 

"Wash  Hickling's  got  a  letter  from  No'th  Carliny,  tellin'  all  about 
it — and,"  added  he,  with  the  most  cold-blooded  and  provoking  delibera 
tion,  "the  letter  says  he  d'sarted  her,  and  that  he  killed  a  man!" 

Mis'  Biggs  rose  and  without  a  word  started  towards  the  Petit's. 

"Ye  needn't  go,"  cried  Larkin,  "case  'Rayshur  heerd  it  soon  as  I  did." 
She  turned  back  reluctantly,  declaring: 

"I  allus  knowed  there  was  sump'n  curus  with  Tom  Algin,  but  none 
o'  ye  would  ever  b'leeve  me.  Now  say  your  mammy  don't  know  best." 

It  was  almost  as  Larkin  said.  Dr.  Wash  Hickling  was  not  the  man 
to  allow  a  handsome  bride  with  a  comfortable  dowry  to  be  wrenched 
from  his  grasp  without  a  struggle.  Seeing  the  imminency  of  such  a 
catastrophe,  he  had  set  his  wits  to  work,  and  had  conceived  the  plan 
of  investigating  the  Parson's  antecedents.  He  had  rightly  surmised 
that  Algin  must  have  been  a  man  of  mark  wherever  he  had  previously 
lived,  and  was  likely  therefore  to  have  made  both  a  record  and  enemies. 
A  little  cautious  inquiry  had  been  sufficient  to  ascertain  the  preacher's 
former  place  of  residence.  A  letter  to  the  postmaster  had  been  returned 
with  references  to  certain  "leading  citizens."  These  leading  citizens 
had  in  turn  received  communications  signed  W.  Hickling,  M.D.,  and 
requesting  information  as  to  the  character  of  one  Thomas  Algin,  who 
was  alleged  to  be  making  overtures  for  a  "matrimonial  alliance,"  with 
a  near  and  dear  relative  of  the  writer.  One  of  these  letters  had  been 
answered,  and  on  this  answer  Wash  rested  his  case. 

On  Monday  he  had  been  at  French's  "still  house."  The  beverage 
had  been  particularly  fresh  and  enticing,  and  Wash  had  yielded  to  its 
blandishments  more  than  was  his  prudent  custom;  for,  except  vanity, 
selfishness,  and  covetousness,  he  had  no  apparent  vices.  As  he  returned 
home  he  had  found  Larkin,  'Rayshur,  and  other  leisurely  disposed  per 
sons  to  a  considerable  number,  at  Hamilton's  store.  Larkin  had  with 
obvious  malice  inquired  whether  or  not  it  was  true  that  Algin  and  Mary 
were  to  be  married  Christmas  Eve.  'Rayshur  had  chuckled,  and  the 
others  had  grinned,  and  Wash,  instigated  by  the  liquor,  had  produced 
and  read  his  letter.  The  crowd  had  listened  with  bated  breath  as  the 
startling  words  were  read,  charging  the  popular  preacher  with  having 
deserted  his  wife  without  cause,  and  having  been  indicted  for  a  felonious 
assault  upon  an  unoffending  man. 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON 


293 


The  reading  finished,  Wash  had  ridden  away  homeward  without 
a  word.  His  auditors  had  speedily  dispersed.  There  would  be  plenty 
of  time  to  talk  afterwards.  At  the  time  each  one  had  felt  it  to  be  his 
solemn  duty  to  give  currency  to  the  astounding  news. 

That  night  Tuckahoe  began  to  ferment.  Larkin,  in  his  capacity  of 
senior  and  principal  gossip,  held  a  levee.  An  armful  of  pine  knots  was 
piled  beside  the  chimney,  and  fed  a  cheerful  blaze  in  the  big  fireplace. 
'Rayshur  had  the  place  of  honor  for  the  evening.  All  the  neighbors 
"drapped  in."  A  pungent  haze  of  tobacco  smoke  from  the  pipes  of  both 
sexes  pervaded  the  room.  Everybody  was  comfortable.  They  all  liked 
Algin,  but  on  Tuckahoe  news  was  news.  Of  course  everybody  was 
sorry;  but  very  many  like  Mis'  Biggs  had  had  their  doubts,  as  it  now 
appeared.  Larkin  sighed  deeply,  as  he  again  and  again  performed  the 
hospitable  duty  of  reciting  to  new  comers  the  contents  of  the  letter. 
It  was  unanimously  agreed  that  the  men  of  the  congregation  should 
meet  on  Wednesday  and  determine  what  course  the  church  should  adopt. 
On  Wednesday  they  met.  A  committee  was  appointed  to  wait  upon 
Algin,  as  soon  as  he  came,  and  demand  an  explanation.  Larkin  mean 
while  began  to  be  troubled  in  his  mind.  His  former  distrust  of  Hickling 
returned.  As  he  sat  on  the  porch  with  'Rayshur  that  afternoon,  he  said: 

"I  never  seen  sich  a  important  set  o'  fellers.  Bob  Byers  and  Hub 
Hickman  couldn't  a  felt  bigger  ef  they'd  bin  a  runnin'  of  a  circus."  Bob 
Byers,  Hub  Hickman,  Bob  Ballord,  Tobe  Keziah,  and  Larkin  were  the 
Deacons,  and  upon  their  official  shoulders  rested  the  weight  of  the  emer 
gency. 

As  usual  the  Deacons  decided  to  call  in  their  influential  neighbors, 
Squire  Keith  and  John  Dingan.  By  their  advice  a  letter  setting  out 
the  charges  was  sent  by  Wednesday's  mail  to  Algin.  Unfortunately, 
the  Parson  had  gone  down  to  Knoxville,  and  did  not  receive  the  letter. 
Neither  did  he  come  Saturday  afternoon,  according  to  his  custom.  He  did 
not  make  his  appearance  until  Sunday  morning,  after  Sunday-school  was 
over.  The  women  were  all  in  the  house,  while  the  men  stood  in  groups 
about  the  yard  discussing  the  absorbing  topic.  Squire  Keith  and  Dingan 
were  at  the  head  of  the  lane,  consulting  with  the  Deacons.  Algin  was 
to  be  told  everything  as  soon  as  he  arrived. 

"Ef  so  be  he's  guilty,"  said  Larkin,  "none  on  us  don'  want  no  more 
preachin'  from  him,  and  ef  he  aint,  we  want  t'  know  it." 

It  was  almost  "meetin'  time"  when  Algin  came  riding  slowly  down 


294  THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON 

the  road.  Seeing  the  committee  standing  at  the  head  of  the  lane,  he 
dismounted  and  shook  hands  with  them.  The  grave  and  unwonted 
formality  of  their  greeting  did  not  seem  to  attract  his  attention.  His 
manner  was  unchanged.  When  the  handshaking  was  over,  an  awk 
ward  silence  fell  upon  the  party.  Algin  looked  at  the  others  and  they 
looked  at  him.  He  was  undisturbed,  but  they  were  obviously  excited, 
except  Squire  Keith,  who  continued  to  chew  his  tobacco  with  his  habitual 
serenity.  Larkin  was  the  first  to  find  his  voice.  Turning  to  Keith,  he  said : 

"Squire,  s'posin'  you  jist  tell  th'  Parson."  Thereupon  the  Squire, 
in  a  few  words  and  very  kindly,  told  Algin  what  their  mission  was. 

Algin  heard  him  without  a  word,  without  any  indication  of  surprise. 
When  the  Squire  had  done,  he  said: 

"I  knew  what  you  were  going  to  say.  I  have  just  come  from  Mrs. 
Hetherly's  and  have  discussed  this  matter  fully  with  them." 

"What'd  they  say?"  exclaimed  Larkin,  carried  away  by  his  ruling 
passion,  and  edging  up  to  Algin. 

The  Parson  smiled  and  continued: 

"If  Hickling  is  not  here  I  wish  you  would  send  for  him." 

"He's  standin'  on  tother  side  of  the  house,"  said  Dingan.  "Wait 
a  minnit  an'  I'll  bring  him." 

Up  at  the  church  excitement  ran  high.  Mis'  Biggs  whispered  to  Mis' 
Petit  and  Mis'  Stallins,  that  she  was  "plum  fidgetty."  The  men  were 
all  outside,  and  the  women  were  straining  their  necks  looking  out  at  the 
windows  and  doors.  As  Dingan  passed  through  the  crowd  of  men  he 
was  repeatedly  interrogated  as  to  "how  he  tuck  it,"  etc.  Declining  to 
make  any  answer,  he  found  Hickling  and  delivered  his  message. 
Dr.  Hickling  was  surprised,  and  for  once  in  his  life  was  at  a  loss  what 
to  say.  He  had  discovered  that  he  had  delivered  his  blow  prematurely, 
and  had  been  engaged  for  three  days  in  manufacturing  opinion  against 
Algin,  and  not  without  success.  He  had  not  expected  to  be  compelled 
to  confront  the  accused,  but  the  eyes  of  the  crowd  were  upon  him,  and 
he  was  bound  to  go.  By  the  time  they  had  crossed  the  yard,  his  self-pos 
session  was  restored,  and  he  greeted  the  committee  in  his  wonted  profes 
sional  manner. 

"Good  morning,  gentlemen;  good  morning,  Parson." 

They  all  nodded  and  said  "Morning,  Doctor,"  except  Algin,  who 
was  hitching  his  horse.  The  minister  tied  the  slip  knot  to  his  satisfac 
tion,  and  turning  to  Wash  said: 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON  295 

"I  understand,  Dr.  Hickling,  that  you  have  a  letter  from  North  Caro 
lina,  charging  me  with  having  a  wife  in  that  State,  whom  I  have  deserted, 
and  also  charging  me  with  an  attempt  to  commit  murder.  I  will  admit 
that  I  did  leave  my  wife,  and  that  I  did  strike  a  man  with  the  purpose 
of  killing  him.  Now  will  you  let  me  see  the  letter?" 

His  auditors  looked  at  one  another  in  consternation.  He  had  said 
all  this  with  perfect  calmness.  Larkin  "fidgetted"  and  Squire  Keith 
knitted  his  brows  and  cut  off  more  tobacco.  Hickling  replied  loftily: 

"Since  you  admit  the  charge,  Mr.  Algin,  it  is  not  necessary  to  show 
the  letter,"  and  with  this  he  started  away. 

Algin,  however,  stepped  quickly  in  front  of  him,  and  said  in  the  same 
measured  tones,  but  with  a  red  spot  on  either  cheek: 

"Wait  a  moment.  I  desire  you  to  let  Squire  Keith  see  the  date  of 
that  letter." 

"That's  fair,  Wash,  let's  see  it,"  said  the  Squire,  holding  out  his  hand. 

Hickling,  with  reluctance,  drew  the  letter  from  his  pocket  and  opened 
it  so  as  to  show  the  date. 

"September  ad,"  said  the  Squire. 

"And  it  is  written  by  Joseph  Raines,  Attorney-at-Law,"  said  Algin. 

"It  is,  sir,"  replied  Wash,  stiffly. 

"And  now,"  said  Algin,  "as  I  understand,  I  am  charged  by  you  with 
the  purpose  of  marrying  Miss  Hetherly,  while  I  have  a  wife  living  in 
North  Carolina,  after  having  deserted  my  wife,  and  having  tried  to  com 
mit  murder!" 

Hickling  nodded.    Algin  had  drawn  a  folded  newspaper  from  his  pocket. 

"Squire,"  he  said,  "will  you  look  at  the  date  and  name  of  this  paper? 

The  Squire  took  the  paper  and  read  aloud: 

"The  Cooseta  Weekly  Messenger,  July  15,  18— ." 

"Now,"  said  Algin,  "will  you  read  the  item  marked  in  blue  pencil 
on  the  first  page?" 

The  Squire  read  again: 

"Died  at  her  home  at  seven  o'clock  yesterday  morning,  after  a  linger 
ing  illness,  Helen  Sanders,  wife  of  Thomas  Algin." 

"Well,"  said  Hickling,  with  a  sneer,  "that  proves  that  your  wife  died 
after  you  deserted  her,  that's  all." 

Algin  by  an  effort  controlled  himself,  and  said: 

"Will  you  be  good  enough  to  tell  me  whether  anything  is  said  in  the 
letter  about  her  death?" 


296  THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON 

Hickling  finally  replied: 

"No,  there  aint." 

Thereupon  Algin  stood  aside,  and  Wash  passed  on  towards  the  church. 
Algin  drew  a  roll  of  money  from  his  pocket,  and  said: 

"Gentlemen,  we  will  have  no  services  today;  but  I  have  a  favor  to 
ask.  I  wish  some  of  you,  or  all  of  you,  to  go  to  Cooseta  and  investigate 
this  matter  for  yourselves.  As  I  make  the  request  I  will  defray  the  ex 
penses.  You  can  go  and  come  in  a  week,  and  I  will  meet  you  here  this 
day  week." 

So  saying  he  thrust  the  money  into  Larkin's  hands  and  was  gone 
before  the  old  man  could  object.  He  held  the  greenbacks  in  his  hands 
and  looked  helplessly  around  at  his  companions.  The  Squire  held  out 
his  hand  and  Larkin  gave  him  the  money.  He  counted  it  carefully. 

"One  hundred  dollars,"  he  said. 

"I  guess  we  don't  need  the  Parson's  money.  Here,  John,  you  keep 
this  and  give  it  back  to  him.  We  can  pay  our  own  expenses." 

So  saying  he  produced  a  venerable,  very  slick,  but  plethoric  leather 
wallet,  tied  with  an  old  piece  of  hame  string.  Carefully  opening  it 
he  extracted  from  it  five  twenty  dollar  bills,  and  gave  them  to  Larkin. 

"Now,  L'arkin,"  he  said,  "you  and  John  start  tomorrow,  and  when 
you  get  there  go  to  the  bottom  of  this  thing.  You  are  old,  but  you  are 
not  a  fool,  and  if  John  aint  got  as  much  sense  as  you  have,  he's  younger." 
John  laughed. 

"But  I  aint  got  no  ridin'  hoss,"  said  Larkin,  "an  it's  mighty  fur." 

"What  do  you  want  with  a  horse?"  exclaimed  the  Squire.  "Why, 
man,  you  must  go  in  the  cars." 

Larkin  trembled  with  excitement. 

"Ride  on  a  steam  ingin  all  the  way  to  No'th  Carliny.  Lord!  you 
don't  mean  it,  Squire;  why,  Betsy  wouldn't  never  let  me  do  it." 

"Yes  she  will,"  said  John,  "I'll  take  keer  of  ye." 

When  the  meeting  "broke  up"  Larkin  hastened  to  communicate 
the  momentous  intelligence  to  Betsy.  They  were  going  down  the  lane. 
When  she  heard  it  she  raised  her  hands  and  cried: 

"Larkin  Biggs!" 

The  neighbors  all  stopped  and  many  of  them  hastened  to  inquire 
what  was  the  matter.  Betsy  was  breathless  with  amazement.  Presently 
she  recovered  and  gasped: 

"He  says  he's  goin'  to  No'th  Carliny  on  the  railroad  kyars." 


THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON  297 

"Lordy  massy!"  exclaimed  Mis'  Petit.  The  other  ladies  present 
also  exclaimed  variously. 

A  considerable  crowd,  most  of  whom  had  never  been  in  the  cars, 
escorted  Larkin  home,  and  all  the  way  the  discussion  was  animated. 
The  result  was  to  reduce  the  old  man  to  a  distressing  state  of  uncertainty 
and  apprehension.  He  went  to  Dingan  again  and  earnestly  besought 
his  most  candid  judgment.  John  spoke  so  strongly  that  he  greatly  allayed 
his  fears,  and  Betsy  with  many  sighs  and  shakings  of  her  head 
and  not  a  few  audible  misgivings  began  to  pack  his  saddle-bags. 
They  were  to  start  the  next  morning.  That  night  at  family  prayers 
Larkin  prayed  long  and  earnestly  for  guidance  and  for  safety  on  his 
perilous  journey.  Let  all  laugh  who  please,  the  danger  was,  to  the  old 
man,  very  real,  and  his  faith  was  such  that  he  arose  from  his  knees  re 
signed  and  comforted. 

The  nearest  station  was  twenty  miles  distant.  When  John  and  Lar 
kin  departed  at  daybreak,  in  John's  spring  wagon,  not  less  than  fifty  of 
the  neighbors  were  present  to  see  them  off.  Betsy  embraced  Larkin, 
shedding  some  natural  tears.  When  they  had  gone  fifty  yards,  she 
shouted: 

"The  bottle  o'  whiskey  and  cheery  bark,  and  the  saltpeter  fur  azmy, 
and  the  taller  fur  yur  boots  is  in  the  side  that  ain't  got  no  holes  in  it." 

Larkin  waved  his  hand  and  they  disappeared  over  the  hill.  The  next 
week  was  the  longest  Tuckahoe  had  ever  known.  The  wheels  of  in 
dustry  stood  still  and  the  people  did  nothing  but  talk  and  surmise. 
Larkin  and  John  got  back  Saturday  night,  and  Sunday  witnessed  an 
unprecedented  gathering  at  the  Hollow.  The  church  would  hardly  hold 
the  people.  They  came  from  the  head-waters  of  Dumpling  and  from 
beyond  French  Broad.  The  committee  met  Algin  at  the  mouth  of  the 
lane.  Before  any  of  them  could  speak,  he  said: 

"Gentlemen,  I  don't  know  what  you  have  concluded,  but  I  wish 
the  people  to  know  the  facts.  I  wish  you  to  state  to  the  congregation 
the  facts,  just  as  you  have  found  them.  I  will  wait  here." 

Larkin  went  up  to  him  and  silently  shook  his  hand.  Then  the  com 
mittee  went  up  to  the  church.  Larkin,  being  a  deacon,  was  spokesman. 
In  East  Tennessee  all  men  are  public  speakers.  Larkin,  barring  grammar 
and  pronunciation,  was  a  very  good  one  and  Tuckahoe  prefers  facts  to 
accomplishments.  A  brother  opened  the  meeting  with  prayer,  and  then 
Larkin  rose.  Tuckahoe  listened  as  never  before.  The  old  man  was  not 
a  little  agitated. 


2Qo  THE   TATER-BUG   PARSON 

"Bretheren  and  Sisteren,"  he  said,  "You  all  know  what  s  bin  said 
'bout  our  Parson.  We  all  want  to  do  him  jestice.  I've  bin  to  No'th 
Carliny  on  the  steam  kyars"  (this  was  said  with  great  humility).  "We 
foun'  whar  th'  Parson  hed  lived.  His  pappy  and  his  mammy  live  thar 
yit.  His  pappy  is  wuth  forty  thousan'  dollars."  (Here  there  was  a  sen 
sation.)  Larkin,  evidently  pleased,  continued: 

"His  pappy  edicated  him  fur  a  lawyer.  He  run  off  when  he  wuz  a 
boy  an'  jined  the  rebel  army  (another  sensation,  for  Tuckahoe  is  intensely 
loyal)." 

"He  cum  back  an'  sot  up  his  offis.  They  had  a  clost  nabor  by  the 
name  ur  Sanders,  who  hed  a  darter,  which  wuz  said  ter  be  th'  finest 
lookin'  woman  in  thet  settlement.  Th'  Parson  fell  in  love  with  her.  Her 
name  wuz  Helen,  wuzn't  it,  John?" 

John  nodded. 

"Thar  wuz  a  young  feller  thar,  a  lawyer  too,  he  wuz  in  love  with  th' 
Sanders  gal,  jist  like  th'  Parson,  and  thar  wuz  right  smart  ambishun 
atwixt  'em.  Ther  Parson  he  merried  her  an'  tuck  her  to  live  in  a  big 
white  house  on  er  farm  that  his  pappy  had  give  him.  Ther  nex'  day 
atter  that  th'  Parson  he  went  away,  and  wuzn't  never  seed  thar  fur  five 
year." 

Larkin  paused.  The  congregation  was  seething  with  excitement. 
Even  Squire  Keith  was  stirred  and  motioned  Larkin  to  go  on. 

"Afore  he  lef,'  tho',  he  gave  a  warrantee  deed  t'  his  farm  t'  his  wife, 
and  paid  th'  register's  fees.  Ever-body  wundered  what  he  done  so  fur. 
His  pappy  went  ter  see  his  wife  and  she  wouldn't  talk  at  fust,  but  atter 
a  while  she  up  and  tole  him  she  didn't  keer  nothin'  fer  th'  Parson,  but 
loved  t'other  feller,  ther  one  I  said  loved  her,  by  the  name  o'  Raines,  and 
her  pa  an'  ma  made  her  merry  th'  Parson  caze  his  fokes  wuz  rich.  Ther 
Parson  he  went, — whar  wuz  it,  John  ?" 

"Australy,"  replied  John,  as  he  pulled  out  his  handkerchief,  and 
began  to  blow  his  nose  suspiciously. 

"Yes,  that  are  the  place.  They  say  its  furder'n  Arkinsaw  er  Texis. 
He  staid  thar  five  year,  and  she  lived  in  his  house,  an'  t'other  feller  wuz 
always  a  sparkin'  her.  She  tried  ter  git  a  divoce,  but  th'  jedge  sed  she 
shudn't  hev  ary  divoce." 

By  this  time  many  of  the  women  were  crying.  Not  so  Betsy  Biggs. 
She  was  indignant  and  showed  it  by  speaking  out  in  meeting. 

"Ther  impedent  hussy!"  she  exclaimed. 


THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON 

"Hol'  on,  Betsy,  I  ain't  done  yit,"  said  Larkin  gravely.  "Atter 
five  year  th'  Parson  he  cum  back.  They  say  he  wuz  a  plum  sight, 
an*  didn'  seem  to  keer  nuthin'  about  nuthin.'  He  went  ter  his 
pappy 's,  an'  one  day  he  tole  his  mammy  he's  goin'  over  onct  more  ter 
see  th'  place  what  he  hed  give  his  wife.  His  mammy  she  seed  him  agoin' 
an'  follered  him.  He  quiled  down  in  a  thicket  and  laid  thar  a  watchin' 
th'  house.  Trectly  he  seed  a  man  an'  a  woman  cum  out.  It  wuz  his 
wife  an'  thet  feller  Raines.  They  cum  down  th'  road.  His  mammy 
she  wuz  hidin'  furder  back  an'  she  seed  what  I'm  goin'  ter  tell  ye.  They 
cum  a  walkin'  clost  ter  whar  th'  Parson  wuz.  Thar  they  cum  to  a  halt. 
She  wuz  sayin'  suthin'  an'  then  he  b'gun  ter  take  ther  name  o'  the  Lord 
in  vain.  They  heerd  him  way  whar  they  wuz.  Then  she  fell  down  like 
she  wuz  a  prayin',  and  then  he  hit  her  an'  knocked  her  down,  an'  stunted 
her, — an'  her  a  woman!" 

Larkin  stopped,  and  Betsy,  excited  beyond  measure,  screamed: 

"What  ye  stoppin'  fer,  Larkin?     What  ye  stoppin'  fer?" 

Her  husband  rebuked  her  with  a  look,  and  went  on: 

"Then  th'  Parson  he  riz  out'n  ther  bushes  an  clum  over  th'  fence  at 
one  jump.  He  hed  a  hickory  walkin'  stick.  He  run  up  ter  Raines  an' 
slapped  him  over.  Raines  he  drawed  er  pistil  an'  shot  one  shoot  at  th' 
Parson  ez  he  got  up.  Ther  bullet  broke  th'  Parson's  left  arm." 

Larkin  raised  his  voice  as  he  continued.  "Then  th'  Parson  he  tuck 
his  stick  an'  beat  him  tell  he  hollered  agin  an'  agin,  then  th'  Parson  tuck 
him  with  one  han'  an'  flung  him  over  ther  fence,  then  his  mammy  she 
cum  an'  tuck  him  way.  An'  (continued  the  speaker,  growing  still  more 
animated  and  raising  his  right  arm)  ef  I'd  bin  ther  Parson,  nigh  onter 
seventy  year  ole  ez  I  am,  I  b'leeve  I'd  a  done  wuss'n  th'  Parson  done  then 
an'  thar,  an'  thet  ther  Lord  would  a  firgive  me." 

"Me  too,"  exclaimed  John  Dingan,  and  all  over  the  house  the  men 
cried  out,  "me  too,"  and  the  women  applauded  them. 

"Thet's  all,"  said  Larkin,  dropping  his  voice,  "'ceptin' thet  th'  Parson 
wuz  errested  for  tryin'  ter  kill  th'  feller.  Ther  judge  an'  th'  jury  wudn't 
heer  no  evidence  fum  th'  Parson,  but  sed  he  done  jist  right,  an'  I  sez  so  too." 
"Ez  fer  ther  woman,  she  died  las'  summer  afore  th'  Parson  axed  Mary 
Hetherly  ter  marry  him,  an'  her  pappy  an'  mammy  is  livin'  now  on  ther 
land  th'  Parson  give  her." 

Larkin  sat  down  exhausted.  There  was  perfect  silence;  the  women 
dryed  their  tears,  as  the  Squire  motioned  to  Bob  Ballord,  and  the  two 


300  THE  TATER-BUG   PARSON 

left  the  house.     In  a  few  minutes  they  came  up  the  aisle  having  Parson 
Algin  between  them. 

Not  a  soul  stirred.  He  went  up  into  the  pulpit  and  the  services  went 
on  as  usual.  After  the  benediction  every  one  sat  still  and  the  silence  was 
oppressive.  The  Parson  started  to  come  down.  Then  Betsy  rose  from 
her  seat  and  went  swiftly  up  the  aisle.  The  Parson  stopped.  She  went 
right  on  up  into  the  pulpit  and  put  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
him,  and  cried  over  him,  and  said  she  hoped  the  Lord  would  bless  him. 
The  strong  man  cried  like  a  child  and  held  her  rough,  honest  hand  tightly 
in  his,  while  all  the  congregation  crowded  around  him  and  showered 
upon  him  words  of  comfort  and  of  blessing. 


THE  BAR  OF  THE  SOUTH.* 

"In  America  there  are  no  nobles,  or  literary  men,  and  the  people  are  apt  to 
mistrust  the  wealthy;  lawyers  consequently  form  the  highest  political  class 
and  the  most  cultivated  circle  of  society." 

IHESE  words,  which  would  seriously  offend  our  national  pride  if 
uttered  now,  are  taken  from  De  Tocqueville's  Democracy  in 
America,  a  book  which,  in  its  time,  was  highly  esteemed  and 
of  great  authority;   but  it  is  now  almost  forgotten,  and  in  the 
America  of  to-day,  teeming  with  "literary"  men  and  women,  the  passage 
is  as  obsolete  and  as  much  calculated  to  excite   amusement   as  Sidney 
Smith's  famous  question  about  American  books  and  pictures.     But  when 
it  was  written  it  was  perhaps,  as  nearly  true  as  the  average  generalization, 
a  comprehensive  qualification  in  view  of  the  extent  to  which  this  country, 
and  especially  the  South,  has  suffered  from  the  generalizations  of  philo 
sophic,  philanthropic  and  corrective  commentators.     The  statement  was 
not  unqualifiedly  true,  because  from  the  days  of  Captain  John  Smith  we  have 
never  been  entirely  without  literary  men.     It  was  incorrect  also  in  that  it 
failed  to  take  into  account  as  "cultivated"  the  clergymen  and  teachers,  all 
more  or  less  "literary/  'who  from  the  first  were  conspicuous  and  influential 
in  America.     In  so  far  as  the  particular  matters  with  which  the  French 
philosopher  dealt  in  his  book  were  concerned,  his  statement  was  correct, 
because  the  preachers  and  teachers  usually  did  not  take  part  actively  in 
public  affairs.     The  position  of  the  lawyers  in  the  South  was  in  no  respect 
different  from  their  position  in  the  North,  their  influence  arising  from  the 
same  causes  and  having  the  same  limitations  in  both  sections.     That  is  to 
say,  as  education,  intelligence,  and  competency  in  public  affairs  have  ad 
vanced  among  men  of  other  occupations,  the  influence  of  the  lawyers  has 
correspondingly  decreased.     This  must  be  taken  with  the  modification  that 
as  the  lawyer  deals  with  a  subject  which  requires  special  knowledge,  and, 
as  that  subject  is  one  of  great  importance,  and  one  that  constantly  and  to 
an  unusual  degree  attracts  the  public  attention,  the   prominence   of  the 
lawyer  is  greater  than  his  intellectual  superiority  to  men  of  other  calling 
alone  could  produce.     This  last  fact  is  illustrated  by  the  continuing  promi 
nence  of  lawyers  in  England  and  in  those  parts  of  the  United  States  where 
the  people  are  best  educated  and  most  attentive  to  public  concerns.     At 

*The  South  in  the  Building  of  the  Nation,  Vol.  VII.  (  3°i ) 


302  THE   BAR  OF  THE   SOUTH 

this  time  in  our  own  country,  the  classes  of  greatest  prominence  and  great 
est  influence  are  the  very  rich;  the  very  learned  in  all  branches  of  knowledge; 
the  greater  educators,  such  as  college  presidents,  the  writers,  and  the 
lawyers.  The  clergy  even  more  than  the  lawyers  have  suffered,  tempo 
rarily  at  least,  a  distinct  loss  of  position  in  recent  years,  but  this  is  less 
true,  perhaps,  in  the  South  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  country.  There 
are  fewer  very  rich  men,  fewer  authors,  fewer  great  institutions  of  learning 
in  the  South  than  in  some  other  sections  of  the  country;  and,  to  the  extent 
that  this  is  true,  the  lawyers  continue  to  be  relatively  more  prominent  and 
more  influential. 

The  first  century  of  the  life  of  our  country  was  a  period  of  political  devel 
opment  and  adjustment,  and  that  fact  alone  would  have  made  the  legal  pro 
fession  of  especial  prominence,  even  if  the  diffusion  of  culture  had  been  more 
general.  Whatever  the  causes  may  have  been,  the  fact  is  indisputable  that, 
down  to  the  Civil  War,  the  attention  and  the  intelligence  of  the  South  were 
directed  mainly  to  public  questions,  and  that  condition  has  continued, 
though  in  steadily  lessening  degree,  until  the  present  time.  For  the  last 
thirty  years  the  profession  has  been  losing  its  monoply  of  public  attention 
and  of  public  affairs.  It  is  very  common  to  hear  the  speakers  in  the  cam 
paign  of  education,  which  is  now  going  on  in  the  South,  say  that  for 
merly  the  center  of  life  in  every  community  was  the  court  house,  but  now  it 
is  the  school  house.  The  change  is  precisely  such  as  has  occurred  in  other 
parts  of  the  country  and  the  statement  contains  much  truth.  We  must 
not  conclude,  however,  that  the  lawyer  is  in  the  way  of  losing  position  en 
tirely;  for,  obviously,  that  can  never  occur  in  the  South  or  in  any  other 
part  of  the  country.  In  every  law-making  body  the  lawyer  is  still  domi 
nant,  except,  perhaps,  in  matters  of  economic  legislation,  despite  all  that  is 
said  of  the  invasion  of  such  bodies  by  men  of  wealth,  and  to  a  large  extent 
this  must  continue  to  be  true  of  necessity,  because  the  time  will  never  come 
when  the  lawyer  will  not  be  needed  in  making  as  well  as  in  administering 
the  laws.  While  it  is  true  that  the  prominence  of  the  legal  profession  in 
the  South  is  attributable  to  the  same  general  causes  that  gave  it  influence 
elsewhere  in  America  in  the  early  days,  it  is  also  a  fact  that  these  causes  were 
more  persistent  in  the  South  than  in  the  North.  The  rolls  of  the  Continen 
tal  Congresses  contain  the  names  of  many  learned  and  capable  lawyers,  but 
the  distinctively  American  lawyer  was  the  product  of  conditions  succeeding 
the  Revolution.  The  great  crisis  did  not  make  demands  exclusively  upon 
any  one  class  of  men. 


THE   BAR  OF  THE   SOUTH  303 

Washington,  Franklin  and  Hancock  were  not  lawyers,  and  Jefferson's 
renown  and  influence  were  never  dependent  in  any  degree  upon  his  pro 
ficiency  at  the  bar  or  upon  his  attainments  as  a  student  of  the  municipal 
law.  Independence,  changed  conditions,  new  institutions  made  the  oppor 
tunities  and  created  the  necessity  for  the  American  lawyer.  The  pecul 
iar  genius  of  Marshall  would  have  had  but  little  chance  for  development 
in  an  English  colony,  for  his  gift  was  in  the  line  of  what  we  may  call  con 
structive  jurisprudence.  And  this  same  capacity  to  apply  the  principles 
of  English  law  to  new  conditions,  to  adapt  them  to  the  requirements  of 
new  institutions,  to  reject  the  common  law  and  the  Westminster  decisions 
when  necessary,  and  sometimes,  to  make  new  law  without  the  aid  of 
legislation,  was  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  nearly  all  our  great 
lawyers  for  half  a  century  after  the  Revolution.  This  process  of  legal  and 
institutional  evolution  and  innovation  was  less  obstructed  in  the  younger 
than  in  the  older  communities.  The  freer  life  of  the  new  West  and  South 
west  encouraged  progress  and  change.  Therefore  in  the  younger  com 
munities  the  lawyer  found  his  best  opportunities  and  was  most  in  demand. 
The  most  important  or,  certainly,  the  most  radical,  legal  and  institutional 
changes  have,  as  a  rule,  had  their  origins  in  the  younger  States.  They  led 
the  way  in  abolishing  property  qualifications  for  voting  and  holding  office; 
they  have  made  the  most  important  modifications  of  the  township  system; 
some  have  extended  the  suffrage  to  women;  some  have  adopted  the  referen 
dum  and  the  initiative,  while  the  very  latest  Western  State  constitution  has 
startled  the  conservatives  by  its  daring  innovations.  A  century  ago  Ten 
nessee  and  Kentucky  were  the  West,  and  when  Tennessee  adopted  her  first 
constitution  in  1796,  Mr.  Jefferson  declared  that  it  was  the  most  dem 
ocratic  of  the  sixteen  state  constitutions  then  in  existence. 

In  building  new  institutions  the  lawyers  were  indispensable,  and  many 
men  eminent  in  the  profession  followed  the  frontier  southward  or  west 
ward,  and  were  the  makers  of  laws  and  institutions  successively  for  new 
communities  as  they  reached  the  point  where  civil  organizations  became 
necessary.  John  Haywood,  probably  the  most  learned  lawyer,  and  one  of  the 
most  scholarly  men  in  the  Southwest  at  the  beginning  of  the  iQth  century, 
was  a  judge  first  in  North  Carolina  and  then  in  Tennessee.  Wm.  C.  C. 
Claiborne  was  a  leader  in  Tennessee  and  then  in  Louisiana.  William 
Cocke  went  from  Virginia  to  the  Watauga  country,  then  in  North  Caro 
lina  but  now  in  Tennessee,  in  the  last  quarter  of  the  i8th  century,  served 
in  the  legislatures  of  Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  aided  in  founding  the 


304  THE   BAR  OF  THE    SOUTH 

republic,  so  called,  of  Transylvania,  was  a  leader  in  the  short  lived  state  of 
Franklin,  a  judge  and  United  States  Senator  in  Tennessee,  and  at  last  one 
of  the  foremost  men  in  the  Mississippi  territory.  Probably  no  other 
American  participated  in  the  making  of  so  many  constitutions  or  repre 
sented  so  many  constituencies. 

Just  so  soon  as  a  community  became  sufficiently  settled  a-nd  secure  for 
civil  rights  to  become  matters  of  concern,  the  lawyers  came  and  took 
charge.  In  the  Southwest  the  Indian  wars  were  succeeded  quickly  by 
strife,  sometimes  hardly  less  sanguinary,  over  land  titles,  and  the  lawyers 
reaped  rich  harvests  of  fees  and  of  political  preferments.  Just  about  the 
period  of  greatest  progress,  in  the  "flush  times"  of  the  Southwest,  came  the 
panic  of  1837  and  everybody  and  everything  got  into  court.  But  this  was 
only  an  additional  and  temporary  source  of  influence.  No  sooner  had 
the  Federal  Constitution  been  adopted  than  grave  questions  of  con 
struction  arose,  demanding  knowledge  of  the  law  for  their  determination. 
The  combative  spirit  of  the  frontier  delighted  in  politics,  and,  as  there  were 
very  few  newspapers,  the  orator  became  a  mighty  power.  Never  was 
public  speech  so  much  in  demand,  never  was  the  public  speaker  so  much 
admired  or  so  influential,  and  nearly  always  he  was  a  lawyer.  It  was  also 
to  the  great  benefit  of  the  lawyers  that  the  combativeness  of  the  frontiers 
man  made  him  a  ready  and  persistent  litigant,  while  his  want  of  training 
in  business  was  a  prolific  source  of  contention. 

It  is  to  the  credit  of  the  Southern  people  that  they  esteemed  not  only 
the  speaking  lawyers,  but  also  the  learned  lawyers,  for  it  happened  frequently 
that  the  oratorical  advocate  was  not  a  profound  jurist.  No  one  ever  put 
Patrick  Henry  and  John  Marshall  as  lawyers  in  the  same  class.  The  law 
was,  as  it  is  yet,  essentially  an  esotoric  science,  and  substantial  acquire 
ments  in  it  were  sure  guarantees  of  public  admiration.  The  old  South 
until  the  Civil  War  was  rural,  and  population  was  dispersed  far  more  than 
in  the  least  populous  parts  of  the  North.  The  Virginia,  Carolina  or  Ala 
bama  planter  lived  isolated  in  the  midst  of  his  spreading  plantation,  and 
came  in  contact  with  his  fellows  mainly  at  the  remote  church  on  occasional 
Sunday  mornings  and  at  the  remoter  court  house  on  Saturdays  and  court 
days.  Conditions  were  unfavorable  to  the  creation  of  a  literature,  and  all 
the  books  were  ^written  in  the  North.  Southern  men  universally  regarded 
public  servicetjas  thelmost  honorable  of  pursuits  and  the  bar  as  the 
avenue  to  such  service.  Sons  of  the  rich  and  prominent  families  frequently 
turned  to  the  law,  and  there  were  few  members  of  the  profession  who  did 


THE   BAR  OF  THE    SOUTH  305 

not  expect  and  seek  office.  There  were  a  few  public  men  who  were  not 
lawyers,  as  for  instance  Andrew  Johnson  and  Wm.  G.  Brownlow,  of 
Tennessee,  but  a  list  of  the  prominent  men  of  the  South  down  to  1861 
would  be  mainly  a  roll  of  attorneys.  In  1860  the  Southern  leaders  were,  in 
Virginia,  such  men  as  Hunter,  Mason,  Wise  and  John  Tyler;  in  North 
Carolina,  Vance  and  Clingman;  in  Georgia,  Toombs,  Stephens  and  Cobb; 
in  South  Carolina,  Rhett,  Chesnutt  and  Barnwell;  in  Alabama,  Yancey, 
Walker  and  Clay;  in  Tennessee,  Nicholson,  Bell,  Harris,  Johnson;  in 
Mississippi,  Davis,  Lamar  and  Barksdale;  in  Arkansas,  Pike,  Garland  and 
Rector;  in  Texas,  Sam  Houston,  Reagan  and  Wigfall;  in  Florida,  Yulee, 
Mallory  and  Morton;  in  Louisana,  Slidell,  Benjamin  and  John  A.  Camp 
bell.  These  were  nearly  all  lawyers  and  they  are  not  a  tithe  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  profession  in  the  South  who  were  of  national  reputation  and 
large  influence. 

The  final  attitude  of  the  South  upon  the  great  constitutional  question 
which  divided  the  sections  was  determined  in  large  measure  by  Jefferson 
and  Madison,  and  in  much  larger  measure  by  Mr.  Calhoun.  Of  the 
active  and  efficient  advocates  of  State's  rights  just  before  the  war,  the  most 
conspicuous  were  Rhett,  of  South  Carolina,  and  Yancey,  of  Alabama.  The 
lawyers  of  the  South  led  in  the  secession  movement,  as  they  had  led  for 
seventy-five  years  in  all  public  affairs.  If  we  look  as  far  back  as  the 
second  quarter  of  the  iQth  century  the  great  names  are  Jackson,  Polk, 
Houston,  Pinckney,  John  Marshall,  Calhoun,  Hayne,  Grundy,  King, 
Crawford.  Always  it  is  the  lawyers. 

The  literature  of  the  South  before  the  war  was  produced  in  large  part  by 
the  lawyers.  Mr.  Calhoun  was  an  author  of  no  little  merit,  and  Jefferson  and 
Madison  are  among  the  foremost  writers  of  the  country  on  political  science. 
John  Marshall  wrote  a  life  of  Washington;  and  there  were  many  contribu 
tions  by  lawyers  to  the  literature  of  political  controversy.  Jere  Clemens,  of 
Alabama,  wrote  novels  which  were  read  fifty  years  ago,  and  Judge  Long- 
street  was  the  author  of  Georgia  Scenes,  of  which  he  was  much  ashamed, 
not  dreaming  that  it  was  to  become  a  classic. 

A  fact  of  the  greatest  importance  is  that  the  profession  corrected  cer 
tain  inevitable  tendencies  toward  aristocracy  in  the  South.  The  bar  was 
attainable  by  every  aspiring  young  man,  and  success  waited  upon  intelli 
gence,  probity  and  industry.  The  young  man  of  the  humblest  origin 
came  to  the  bar  and  succeeded  if  he  had  the  capacity;  and  it  happened  not 
infrequently  that  the  sons  of  poor  and  obscure  men  rose  to  the  highest 

20 


306  THE    BAR  OF  THE   SOUTH 

positions.  There  can  be  no  better  illustrations  of  this  than  Andrew  Jack 
son  and  Henry  Clay. 

It  was  due  thus  very  largely  to  the  influence  of  the  bar  that  while  the 
South  indisputably  presented  certain  features  of  aristocracy,  it  was  essen 
tially  democratic.  Nowhere  in  the  country  was  merit  more  certain  of  re 
ward,  or  ability  more  promptly  recognized  without  regard  to  considera 
tions  of  birth  or  fortune,  and  the  dominant  sentiment  in  the  South,  not 
withstanding  the  institution  of  slavery,  was  not  genuinely  an  imperfect  local 
institution,  but  intensely  democratic.  Mr.  Lincoln's  birth  was  not  more 
obscure,  or  his  early  life  harder,  than  that  of  Andrew  Jackson — not 
much  more  than  that  of  Henry  Clay.  The  legal  profession  attracted  and 
encouraged  talent  very  much  as  the  church  did  in  the  Middle  Ages  and 
with  very  much  the  same  result.  It  was  the  bulwark  of  thorough 
Americanism  and  pure  democracy. 

It  is  not  true,  as  so  often  asserted,  that  there  were  only  two  classes  of 
whites  in  the  South,  the  aristocrats  and  the  "trash.'  The  aristo 
crats,  so  named,  the  old  families  of  large  landed  estates,  were  compara 
tively  few  in  number;  and  the  "poor  white  trash"  less  numerous  than  is 
generally  believed.  The  great  body  of  Southern  whites  did  not  belong  to 
either  class,  but  were  plain,  average,  middle  class  people,  intelligent,  of 
sound  morals,  independent  and  patriotic.  There  was  probably  no  part 
of  the  South  where  this  good  element  of  population  was  not  in  the 
majority.  It  furnished  many  of  the  more  prominent  lawyers,  and,  by  its 
numerical  strength,  enforced  a  regard  for  itself  which  sometimes  degener 
ated  into  demagogy. 

Nothing  could  be  more  absurd  than  the  conception  of  the  South  as  the 
home  of  a  domineering,  haughty,  slaveholding  aristocracy,  without  any 
other  white  population  than  the  "crackers"  and  the  mountaineers,  to  whom 
recent  fiction  has  assigned  so  many  and  such  impossible  varieties  of  un 
couth  speech.  That  the  rich  slaveholders  had  an  influence  dispropor 
tionate  to  their  numbers,  such  as  wealth  always  gives,  is  true  of  course; 
but  the  middle  class  of  respectable  and  intelligent  whites,  often  slave 
holders  to  a  limited  extent,  but  in  no  degree  aristocratic  in  fact  or  in  pre 
tense,  was  everywhere  in  the  majority,  and  it  was  from  this  class  that  the 
bar  was  most  largely  recruited.  Moreover,  the  aristocratic  element  owed 
its  indisputable  prominence  not  more  to  wealth  and  family  standing  than 
to  the  ability  and  personal  worth  of  the  men  whom  it  put  forward  as  its 
representatives.  That  the  Southern  aristocracy  was  composed  as  a  rule 


THE    BAR  OF  THE    SOUTH  307 

of  men  of  high  character  and  of  honorable  pride  is  true;  but  it  is  also  true 
that  it  was  not  only  limited  in  influence  and  restrained  from  excesses,  but 
spurred  to  greater  exertions  by  competition  with  the  more  numerous  plain 
people;  and  the  principal  or  at  least  the  most  conspicuous  field  of  endeavor 
and  of  honorable  rivalry  was  the  bar.  It  is  only  just  to  add  that  the  aris 
tocracy  in  turn  by  its  intelligence,  moral  worth,  and  high  standards  of 
conduct  exercised  a  strong  and  valuable  influence  upon  all  other  elements 
of  population. 

Let  us  examine  the  antecedents  of  a  few  of  the  great  Southern  lawyers 
and  political  leaders.  If  we  leave  out  Washington,  the  most  conspicuous 
names  in  the  old  South  are  Jefferson,  Clay,  Jackson  and  Calhoun.  Not 
one  of  these  was  of  Cavalier  blood,  or,  strictly  speaking,  of  the  aristo 
cratic  class.  Jefferson  was,  in  part,  Scotch-Irish,  in  part  Welsh,  without 
pride  of  lineage,  and  intolerant  of  aristocracy.  Jackson's  birth  was  so 
obscure  that  there  is  dispute  as  to  where  he  was  born.  Clay  was  popu 
larly  known  as  "the  mill  boy  of  the  slashes."  Calhoun  was  of  plain,  good 
Scotch-Irish  descent.  His  mother's  family  came  to  America  not  more  than 
forty  years  before  the  Revolution,  a  part  of  the  Covenanter  migration  in 
search  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  William  H.  Crawford,  of  Georgia, 
the  rival  of  Jackson  and  John  Quincy  Adams,  was  a  poor  boy, 
and  began  his  career  as  a  school  teacher.  William  R.  King,  Vice-Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  was  of  a  plain  but  good  North  Carolina  family. 
William  Wirt,  of  Virginia,  was  born  of  a  Swiss  father  and  a  German  mother, 
and  was  too  poor  to  obtain  a  college  education.  Sam  Houston  was  of  a 
frontier  Scotch-Irish  family.  These  are  sufficient  illustrations  of  the  fact 
that  the  bar  of  the  South  contained  from  the  first  many  eminent  men  who 
were  not  in  any  sense  aristocratic  by  descent  or  in  sentiment.  It  is  a  fact 
that  there  were  many  of  the  richer  and  more  powerful  families,  but  the  South 
ern  lawyers,  who  were  almost  invariably  the  Southern  leaders,  were  not  all  or 
mainly  members  of  what  is  called  the  aristocracy,  and  the  bar  with  its  un 
restricted  opportunities  for  talent  and  merit  was  therefore  an  efficient  cor 
rective  of  undemocratic  tendencies. 

The  opposition  of  the  South  to  liberal  constructions  of  the  Constitution 
was  inherited  from  the  great  Virginia  statesmen  of  the  first  period  of  our 
history;  but  it  was  kept  alive  and  strengthened,  not  only  by  sectional  differ 
ences  upon  that  point,  but  also  by  the  strong  democratic  opinions  of  its 
lawyer  leaders.  It  is  not  necessary  to  my  present  purpose  that  I  should 
demonstrate  or  even  assert  that  this  attitude  of  the  profession  was  due  to 


308  THE   BAR  OF  THE   SOUTH 

the  influence  of  the  plain  people  in  its  ranks.  Neither  is  it  within  my 
province  to  consider  whether  the  tendency  was  right  or  wrong.  I  am  con 
cerned  only  to  show  the  influence  of  the  bar  on  Southern  thought  and 
life,  and  I  affirm  with  confidence  that  the  proverbial  conservatism  of  the 
South  is  largely  a  result  of  the  leadership  of  lawyers,  a  class  that  in  all  free 
countries  has  been  zealous  in  support  of  the  written  law. 

This  fact  of  the  conservatism  of  the  bar  is  of  the  first  importance,  be 
cause  it  accounts  in  large  measure  for  the  course  of  the  South  in  politics 
from  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution  to  1861  and  has  had  not  a  little  to  do 
with  the  direction  of  events  since  the  Civil  War. 

Another  fact  worthy  of  special  attention  is  the  record  of  the  Southern 
statesmen  of  the  old  regime.  I  make  no  comparison  between  them  and  the 
public  men  of  other  sections.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  almost  without 
exception,  so  far  as  I  know,  they  were  men  of  unquestioned  integrity  and 
of  sincere  patriotism.  By  force  of  intellect  and  of  character  they  long 
exerted  a  controlling  influence  in  affairs  and  almost  without  exception  de 
served  and  received  public  respect  and  confidence.  They  were  always 
positively,  sometimes  unduly  insistent  upon  their  rights  and  those  of  their 
constituency;  but  they  were  strong,  fearless,  capable,  honorable  men, 
strenuously  and  genuinely  patriotic;  and  their  long  ascendancy  in  affairs 
of  state  was  marked  by  efficiency,  honesty,  economy  and  fidelity  to  duty. 
The  South  has  a  right  to  be  proud  of  these  statesmen  of  the  old  time, 
and  so  has  the  legal  profession,  for  the  great  majority  of  them  were  law 
yers. 

The  tone  of  the  profession  must  have  been  high  when  it  produced  the 
long  line  of  great  and  good  men,  and  strong  lawyers  that  began  with  Pey 
ton  Randolph,  Madison,  Monroe,  Marshall,  Wirt  and  Pinckney,  and  con 
tains  the  names  of  Clay,  Calhoun,  Crawford,  King,  Berrien,  Hayne,  Jack 
son,  Overton,  Hugh  L.  White,  Polk,  Grundy,  Cobb,  Stephens,  John  Bell, 
Toombs,  Rhett,  Yancey,  Davis,  Wise,  Breckenridge,  Benjamin  and  Catron, 
to  say  nothing  of  such  lawyers  of  the  border  Southern  States,  as  Luther 
Martin,  Pinkney,  Benton,  Reverdy  Johnson  and  Taney. 

Long  ago  a  representative  of  one  of  the  old  and  aristocratic  families  of 
the  South,  one  of  the  genuine  "fire  eaters,"  consulted  me  with  regard  to  the 
choice  of  a  profession  for  his  son.  I  said  to  him  that  in  my  opinion  my 
own  profession  of  the  law  did  not  offer  so  many  advantages  as  formerly. 
He  replied  that  the  law  was,  and  always  would  be  "the  ruling  pro 
fession  of  the  world,"  and  repelled  with  warmth  my  suggestion  of  the  op- 


THE   BAR  OF  THE   SOUTH  309 

portunities  for  success  in  commercial  life.  His  scorn  of  the  "shop  keeper" 
was  outspoken  and  emphatic.  His  estimation  of  the  law  was  characteristic 
of  his  generation,  and  I  have  tried  to  show  how  much  there  was  to  sup 
port  it.  I  am  very  sure  that,  on  account  of  the  conditions  prevailing  from 
1789  to  1 86 1,  lawyers  commanded  more  respect  and  wielded  more  influ 
ence  in  the  Southern  States  than  ever  before,  or  afterwards,  in  any  part  of 
the  world.  The  intellect  of  the  entire  section  went  almost  exclusively  into 
the  profession,  and  the  result  was  a  long  line  of  lawyers,  judges  and  states 
men,  whose  names  reflect  honor  upon  our  country. 

They  were  learned  lawyers,  eloquent  advocates,  just  and  wise  judges, 
capable  and  incorruptible  statesmen.  No  single  man  so  profoundly  af 
fected  the  politics  of  the  country  as  Thomas  Jefferson;  none  has  exerted  so 
powerful  an  influence  on  its  jurisprudence  as  Marshall;  Webster's  argu 
ments  were  not  so  effectual  in  determining  the  real  nature  and  effect  of  the 
Constitution  as  Jackson's  uncompromising  attitude  toward  nullification; 
no  statesman  has  had  such  a  personal  following  as  Clay,  unless  it  was 
Jackson;  and  until  1861,  Hamilton  had  not  attracted  or  convinced  so  many 
minds  as  Jefferson  or  Calhoun. 

When  we  consider  the  facts  here  briefly  outlined,  it  is  no  wonder  that  to 
the  people  of  the  Old  South  the  law  appeared  as  "the  ruling  profession  of 
the  world." 

As  to  the  influence  of  the  bar  upon  the  culture  of  the  South  there  can  be 
but  one  opinion.  The  logical  inference  is  supported,  abundantly,  by  the 
facts.  The  lawyers  being,  usually,  men  of  education,  were  examples  to 
others,  and  were  also  the  active  supporters  of  every  movement  for  the 
advancement  of  learning.  Mr.  Jefferson  founded  and  fixed  the  policy  of 
the  most  noted  Southern  university.  As  a  rule,  the  early  Southern  col 
leges  were  corporations  created  by  the  legislatures  and  controlled  by  self- 
perpetuating  boards  of  trustees,  and  an  examination  of  the  records  of 
these  institutions  will  show  not  only  the  numerical  preponderance  of  the 
lawyers,  but  also  their  controlling  influence  in  these  corporations.  It 
would  be  interesting,  if  it  were  possible,  to  ascertain  how  many  prominent 
Southern  lawyers  were  school  teachers.  Sometimes  they  became  presi 
dents  of  colleges  and  universities.  Frequently  they  were  editors.  Judge 
Nicholson,  who  was  twice  senator  from  Tennessee;  Yancey,  of  Alabama; 
Rhett,  of  South  Carolina,  were  engaged,  actively,  at  times,  in  newspaper 
work.  Every  calling  that  required  intellectual  training,  every  movement 
for  the  advancement  of  education  and  the  improvement  of  morals  was 


310  THE    BAR  OF  THE    SOUTH 

supported  actively  by  the  lawyers.  In  all  respects  their  influence  upon 
culture  in  the  South  was  wholly  good  and  strikingly  effective. 

In  their  general  social  relations  their  conduct  and  their  influence  were 
excellent.  The  prominence  of  their  position  and  the  almost  universal 
desire  and  expectation  of  public  service  made  them  exceptionally  respon 
sive  to  the  ethical  requirements  of  the  communities  in  which  they  lived. 
But  beyond  this  negative  virtue,  which  might  be  attributed  to  an  intelli 
gent  self-interest,  there  was  a  genuine  and  positive  desire  and  purpose  to 
serve  their  fellowmen  and  their  country.  No  body  or  class  of  men  ever 
had  higher  ideals  or  exhibited  greater  excellence  in  private  or  public  life 
than  the  old-time  Southern  lawyers,  with  whom,  mainly,  I  am  now  con 
cerned.  They  were  not  free  from  the  infirmities  and  faults  of  their  times 
and  of  their  environment,  but  impartially  judged  they  are  entitled  to  all 
the  commendation  I  have  given  them,  and  their  honorable  example  is  an 
inspiration  to  their  successors.  At  the  bar  the  Southern  lawyer  was  zeal 
ous  but  honest;  on  the  bench,  fearless,  impartial  and  incorruptible;  in 
politics,  his  record,  known  to  all  his  countrymen,  is  clear  and  altogether 
admirable;  in  private  life,  he  was  guided  by  the  strictest  standards  of 
conduct,  and  by  a  constant  regard  of  the  courtesies  of  life  and  the  rights  of 
his  fellowmen.  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  idealize  him.  That  he  had  his 
share  of  the  weaknesses  common  to  men  is  admitted,  of  course,  but  my 
present  business  is  to  depict  him  as  he  appeared  in  the  large  to  his  fellow 
citizens,  and  thereby  show  what  his  influence  must  have  been  on  Southern 
life  and  culture. 

This  account  would  be  incomplete  without  reference  to  the  connection 
of  the  lawyers  with  the  religious  life  of  the  South,  and  here  again  I  may  be 
suspected  of  indiscriminate  praise  and  of  a  desire  to  arrogate  to  my  pro 
fession  all  the  virtues.  The  assertions  which  I  am  about  to  make  do  not 
admit  of  positive  proof.  Nevertheless,  they  are  well  founded. 

The  profession  did  not  escape  in  early  times  the  Eighteenth  century 
French  influence,  but  it  was  not  seriously  infected,  and  it  is  affirmed  confi 
dently  that  in  proportion  to  numbers,  the  lawyers  of  the  South  have  been 
very  much  more  largely  represented  in  the  churches  than  any  other  class 
of  men.  To  an  extent  wholly  exceptional,  the  lay  activities  and  leadership 
in  churches  of  all  denominations  have  been  in  the  hands  of  lawyers.  It 
has  been  so  in  the  past,  and  it  is  so  now.  The  assertion  is  made  without 
qualification,  and  an  examination  of  the  facts,  past  and  present,  would 
confirm  it. 


JOHN  BELL  OF  TENNESSEE.* 

A    CHAPTER   OF    POLITICAL   HISTORY. 

TENNESSEE  lawyer  wittily  says  that  Tennessee  "broke  into 
the  Union."  The  "Territory  of  the  United  States  South  of 
the  River  Ohio"  was  established  by  an  act  of  Congress  passed 
May  26,  1790.  By  this  act  the  newly  created  territory,  which 
geographically  was  almost  identical  with  the  present  State  of  Tennessee, 
was  to  be  governed  in  all  respects  as  the  Northwest  Territory,  except 
that  slavery  was  to  be  permitted.  This  last  had  been  provided  for  in 
the  act  of  cession,  by  which  North  Carolina  had  conveyed  the  greater 
part  of  the  territory  to  the  United  States. 

The  new  territory  was  entitled  to  become  a  State  whenever  the  popu 
lation  should  amount  to  60,000.  The  census  properly  should  have  been 
ordered  by  Congress  and  taken  under  Federal  supervision,  but  the  legis 
lature  of  the  territory,  in  ignorance  or  in  disregard  of  this  fact,  passed 
an  act  July  n,  1795,  for  the  enumeration  of  the  people.  The  popu 
lation  was  found  to  exceed  seventy-seven  thousand.  Thereupon  a  con 
vention  was  called,  and  met  at  Knoxville,  January  n,  1796.  By  the 
sixth  of  February  it  had  completed  its  labors,  having  reproduced,  with 
certain  democratic  changes,  the  Constitution  of  North  Carolina  of  1776. 
Mr.  Jefferson  said  of  this  Tennessee  Constitution,  "that  it  was  the  least 
imperfect  and  the  most  republican"  of  the  State  Constitutions. 

The  new  applicant  for  statehood  did  not  waste  time,  but  in  March, 
1796,  assembled  its  first  legislature,  and  prematurely  elected  two  sen 
ators.  On  the  8th  of  April  the  Constitution  was  presented  to  Congress. 
After  some  debate  the  House  of  Representatives  passed  a  bill  admitting 
Tennessee  into  the  Union,  but  in  the  Senate  the  most  serious  opposition 
was  encountered.  The  active  championship  of  Aaron  Burr  was  one 
of  the  principal  means  of  securing  the  passage  of  the  bill.  The  Fed 
eralists  opposed  it  as  a  measure  in  aid  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  ambition  to 
become  President.  The  bill  was  approved  by  the  President  on  the  first 
day  of  June,  1796. 

It  thus  appears  that  the  Federalist  leaders  regarded  Tennessee  as 
certain  to  become  a  Republican  State.  In  this  they  were  right,  and 
their  course  in  opposing  her  admission  to  the  Union  had  the  effect  of 

*Published  in  American  Historical  Review,  July,  1899.  (  311  ) 


312  JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

confirming  her  Republicanism.  The  people  were  indignant  on  account 
of  the  opposition,  and  for  many  years  no  public  man  in  Tennessee  dared 
to  admit  that  he  entertained  Federalist  principles.  It  was  not  until  1823 
that  there  was  a  sign  of  revolt  from  the  Democratic-Republican  party 
in  the  State,  and  even  then  the  demonstration  was  not  serious,  and  for 
twelve  years  later  there  was  no  real  party  division  in  Tennessee.  The 
Whig  party  had  its  birth  in  Tennessee  in  the  year  1835,  although  four 
years  elapsed  before  the  name  was  openly  adopted. 

In  1823  John  Williams,  who  was  United  States  Senator  from  Ten 
nessee,  sought  re-election.  He  had  been  a  colonel  in  the  regular  army, 
and  had  led  his  regiment  with  conspicuous  valor  in  the  battle  of  the 
Horse-shoe.  As  a  Senator,  his  services  had  been  acceptable  and  every 
thing  indicated  his  re-election.  But  Andrew  Jackson  was  a  candidate 
for  the  presidency  and  his  supporters  demanded  pledges  from  Williams, 
who  declined  to  give  them  and  avowed  his  preference  for  a  rival  candi 
date.  The  Jackson  men,  failing  to  find  any  other  candidate  who  could 
defeat  him,  brought  forward  their  distinguished  leader,  and  elected 
him,  but  not  without  vigorous  opposition.  Among  the  members  of  the 
legislature  who  voted  for  Williams  against  Jackson  was  David  Crockett. 
In  1827  and  again  in  1833,  Crockett  was  elected  to  Congress.  During 
both  terms  he  was  outspoken  in  opposition  to  Jackson,  and  in  the  last 
one  declared  himself  a  Whig,  being  probably  the  first  man  of  note  in 
the  State  to  assume  the  name  openly.  From  the  year  1815  till  his  death, 
Andrew  Jackson  was  the  foremost  man  in  Tennessee.  Failing  of  elec 
tion  to  the  presidency  in  1824  he  was  elected  in  1828,  securing  the  sup 
port  of  New  York  through  the  political  skill  and  the  energy  of  Martin 
Van  Buren.  Next  to  Jackson  in  distinction  and  popularity  among  the 
public  men  of  Tennessee  at  this  period  was  Hugh  Lawson  White,  a 
man  of  great  ability,  of  unsullied  purity,  and  much  force  of  character. 
He  had  been  for  years  Jackson's  intimate  friend  and  his  wisest  and  most 
capable  adviser.  About  the  beginning  of  Jackson's  second  term,  White 
began  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  probable  successor.  Jackson  had  deter 
mined  that  Van  Buren  should  succeed  him,  and  left  nothing  undone  to 
secure  that  end.  White  was  offered  the  most  honorable  offices  in  order 
to  prevent  his  candidacy  for  the  presidency,  but  declined  them  all.  Fi 
nally  Jackson,  according  to  his  custom,  yielded  to  his  temper  and  declared 
that  if  White  became  a  candidate  he  would  be  made  odious  to  society. 
In  December,  1834,  a  majority  of  the  Tennessee  delegation  in  Congress 


JOHN   BELL   OF  TENNESSEE  313 

joined  in  a  letter  to  White  asking  him  to  declare  himself  a  candidate. 
Justly  incensed  against  Jackson,  he  instantly  consented,  and  among 
his  supporters  at  this  time  was  John  Bell,  who  was  destined  to  be  the 
leader  of  the  Whig  party  in  Tennessee  throughout  its  existence. 

These  preliminary  statements  are  necessary  to  a  clear  understanding 
of  Bell's  career.  He  was  a  native  of  Tennessee,  and  was  born  near  Nash 
ville,  February  15,  1797.  His  father,  Samuel  Bell,  was  one  of  the  pioneers 
of  Tennessee.  His  mother,  whose  maiden  name  was  Margaret  Edmiston, 
was  a  native  of  Virginia,  descended  from  a  worthy  Scotch-Irish  ances 
try.  Her  father,  Samuel  Edmiston,  was  with  Shelby  at  the  battle  of 
King's  Mountain,  and  the  musket  which  he  carried  on  that  memorable 
day  is  preserved  in  the  rooms  of  the  Tennessee  Historical  Society  at 
Nashville. 

John  Bell  was  educated  at  the  University  of  Nashville,  graduating 
in  1814.  Three  years  later,  when  he  had  barely  attained  his  majority, 
he  was  elected  to  the  State  Senate.  Realizing  promptly,  however,  that 
he  had  made  a  mistake  in  entering  politics  so  early  in  life,  he  declined 
a  re-election,  and  removing  to  Nashville,  devoted  the  next  ten  years  to 
the  study  and  the  practice  of  law,  and  to  careful  general  reading.  The 
bar  of  Nashville  was  a  strong  one,  but  Bell  rose  rapidly,  and  the  most 
competent  judges  declare  that  he  was  exceptionally  qualified  for  the 
profession.  The  cast  of  his  mind  was  philosophic  and  judicial,  but  he 
preferred  the  large  affairs  of  state  to  the  incessant  contests  and  the  drudg 
ery  of  the  law.  That  he  looked  forward,  from  the  first,  to  a  career  in 
public  life,  is  not  to  be  doubted. 

In  1827  he  believed  that  the  time  had  arrived  when  he  might  enter 
with  safety  upon  this  career.  The  Nashville  district  contained  many 
strong  men,  but,  with  the  exception  of  Andrew  Jackson,  none  better 
known  or  more  popular  at  that  time  than  Felix  Grundy.  In  Kentucky, 
where  he  had  been  reared,  Grundy  had  been  chief-justice  of  the  highest 
court  of  that  State.  In  the  legislature  of  Kentucky  he  had  shown  him 
self  no  unworthy  rival  of  Henry  Clay  as  an  orator  and  as  a  debater.  In 
Tennessee,  whither  he  moved  in  1807,  he  had  been  elected  to  Congress 
with  practical  unanimity  in  1811,  and  re-elected  in  1813,  but  had  resigned. 
While  in  Congress  he  had  exerted  an  unsurpassed  influence.  He  had 
been  one  of  the  most  vigorous  advocates  of  the  War  of  1812,  and  the 
Federalists  were  fond  of  attributing  that  war  to  the  firm  of  "Madison, 
Grundy  and  the  Devil." 


314  JOHN   BELL   OF  TENNESSEE 

In  1827  Mr.  Grundy  again  sought  to  represent  the  Nashville  dis 
trict  in  Congress.  Andrew  Jackson  was  his  outspoken  and  active  sup 
porter,  and  at  that  time  the  influence  of  Jackson  in  Tennessee  was  be 
lieved  to  be  irresistible.  It  caused  the  most  profound  astonishment, 
therefore,  when  Grundy,  the  man  next  to  Jackson  in  popular  fame  and 
admiration,  in  the  district,  was  defeated  by  John  Bell,  then  a  compar 
atively  unknown  man;  and  the  new  Congressman  continued  for  four 
teen  years  to  represent  the  Nashville  district. 

At  first  there  was  no  open  breach  between  him  and  Jackson,  but 
Bell  never  forgot  the  contest  of  1827,  and  Jackson's  course  at  that  time 
was  destined  to  influence  profoundly  the  later  political  history  of  the 
State  and  of  the  Union.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the  estrangement  of 
the  two  men  who  played  the  most  important  parts  in  public  life  in  Ten 
nessee,  during  the  three  decades  preceding  the  Civil  War.  Despite 
the  fact  that  Mr.  Bell's  temperament  and  habits  of  mind  were  in  a  meas 
ure  unsuited  to  the  noisy  and  sometimes  tempestuous  proceedings  of 
the  House  of  Representatives,  he  speedily  rose  to  a  position  of  leader 
ship.  Among  the  Tennesseans  he  was  easily  the  most  accomplished 
and  effective  debater.  He  was  not  a  frequent  speaker,  but  when  he 
arose  was  heard  always  with  respect  and  attention.  He  had  many  of 
the  physical  gifts  and  graces  of  the  orator,  together  with  an  exceptional 
command  of  language,  and  was  a  clear,  logical  and  persuasive  reasoner. 

Twice  he  seemed  on  the  brink  of  a  broader  career;  but  was  both 
times  disappointed.  In  1834  he  was  elected  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  but  in  1835  was  defeated  for  that  office  by  James  K. 
Polk  of  his  own  State.  In  1841  he  entered  President  Harrison's  cabinet 
as  Secretary  of  War,  but  resigned  after  the  death  of  the  President  and 
the  political  defection  of  his  successor.  He  might  at  this  time,  or  at 
least  in  1843,  have  beefa  elected  to  the  Senate,  but  preferred  for  the  time 
to  remain  in  private  life. 

Meanwhile  events  of  great  importance  to  him  and  to  the  country 
led,  or  rather  drove  him,  to  a  radical  change  of  position.  In  every  Con 
gressional  election,  after  1827,  the  friends  of  Jackson  had  manifested 
a  bitter  opposition  to  Bell,  but  all  their  efforts  to  defeat  him  had  been 
futile.  The  estrangement  between  Jackson  and  Bell  begun  in  1827, 
was  more  and  more  confirmed  every  year  by  this  persistent  antagoniz 
ing  of  Bell  by  the  President's  friends. 

As  early  as   1831,  Jackson's  determination  to  make  Van   Buren  his 


JOHN   BELL   OF  TENNESSEE  315 

successor  was  becoming  widely  known,  though  Tennessee  and  other 
States  preferred  White,  and  Crockett,  again  in  Congress,  was  bold  in 
opposing  Jackson.  The  seeds  sown  in  the  fight  against  Williams  in 
1823  were  bearing  fruit;  and  in  1835  the  time  was  ripe  for  political  revo 
lution  in  Tennessee.  White's  candidacy  for  the  presidency  was  a  de 
claration  of  independence  and  also  a  declaration  of  war.  Tennessee 
was  strongly  for  White  and  profoundly  distrustful  of  Van  Buren.  Bell 
became  the  leader  of  the  White  forces  in  that  State,  not  so  much  because 
he  loved  White,  although  he  held  him  in  great  esteem,  as  because  he 
knew  that  his  own  political  life  and  the  political  future  of  the  State  were 
involved  in  the  struggle. 

Up  to  this  time  Bell  had  never  placed  himself  distinctly  in  opposition 
to  Jackson,  or  to  his  party.  It  is  true  that  he  had  disapproved  the  re 
moval  of  the  bank  deposits,  but  he  had  supported  Jackson  in  the  nulli 
fication  troubles,  and  had  been  in  accord  with  the  administration  upon 
the  subject  of  the  tariff.  Even  in  1835  he  was  not  ready  to  leave  the 
Democratic-Republican  party,  or  to  admit  that  the  differences  between 
the  President  and  himself  were  more  than  personal.  Upon  the  contrary 
he  declared  that  the  friends  of  White  would  adhere  to  Jackson,  but  from 
a  desire  to  be  consistent,  and  out  of  respect  for  their  own  characters  and 
in  support  of  their  own  principles.  But  events  were  irresistible;  no 
sooner  had  White  become  a  candidate  than  a  furious  factional  war  began. 
The  Globe,  the  Jackson  organ  at  Washington,  declared  that  White  was 
being  used  by  Bell  to  break  down  the  administration.  The  President 
declared  that  Bell  must  not  he  returned  to  Congress;  but  no  one  could 
be  found  to  run  against  him,  and  he  was  re-elected.  The  press  of  the 
State  favored  White,  and  therefore  one  Jeremiah  George  Harris,  a  native 
of  New  England,  a  trained  writer,  with  a  gift  of  satire  and  vituperation, 
devoted  to  Jackson  and  Van  Buren  and  versed  in  political  methods, 
was  brought  to  Tennessee  and  placed  in  charge  of  a  newspaper  to  ridi 
cule  and  abuse  Bell  and  White.  In  1835  White  was  returned  to  the 
Senate.  In  the  State  election  of  that  year  the  White  candidate  for  Gov 
ernor  was  elected,  and  everything  indicated  that  the  State  would  go  for 
White  in  the  Federal  election. 

Jackson,  as  usual,  fought  with  all  his  strength,  willingly  enduring 
the  hardships  of  the  long  journey  from  Washington  to  Tennessee  in 
order  to  engage  in  personal  advocacy  of  his  candidate,  maintaining, 
however,  that  the  issue  was  solely  between  White  and  himself.  But 


316  JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

his  efforts  were  of  no  avail.  White  carried  the  State  and  even  secured 
a  majority  in  the  Hermitage  precinct.  Jackson  and  his  supporters  in 
this  campaign  denounced  Bell  and  White  and  their  friends  as  Whigs,  as 
"new  Whigs,"  and  by  this  last  opprobrious  name  they  were  long  known. 
The  reluctance  with  which  men  admit  a  change  of  political  position 
was  never  more  strikingly  shown  than  in  Tennessee  at  this  period.  The 
proscriptions  of  the  Jacksonians  had  alienated  many  prominent  men 
and  caused  much  discontent  among  the  people;  in  Tennessee,  as  else 
where,  there  were  differences  of  opinion  upon  public  questions,  but  the 
sentiment  existing  before  Tennessee  became  a  State  and  confirmed  by 
the  opposition  to  her  admission,  had  up  to  this  time  been  too  strong  to 
be  resisted,  and  the  leaders  of  the  dominant  party  had  been  men  of  extra 
ordinary  ability  and  force. 

It  was  not  until  1839  tnat  tne  opponents  of  Jackson  reached  the  point 
where  they  were  willing  to  call  themselves  Whigs.  White  refused  to 
the  last  to  adopt  the  name,  but  called  himself  an  independent.  New 
ton  Cannon,  a  candidate  for  Governor  in  1839,  was  the  first  avowed 
Whig  candidate  for  that  office  in  Tennessee.  But  the  strength  of  the 
Whigs,  or  of  the  opponents  of  Jackson,  in  the  State  is  shown  by  the  fact 
that  in  1840  Harrison  carried  Tennessee  by  a  majority  of  12,000  votes 
in  a  total  of  a  little  over  100,000.  In  1841  and  again  in  1843,  James 
C.  Jones,  the  Whig  candidate  for  Governor,  defeated  so  conspicuous 
and  important  a  Democrat  as  James  K.  Polk. 

In  1844  Mr.  Polk,  although  elected  President,  was  unable  to  carry 
his  own  State,  and  in  1848  and  in  1852,  the  Whig  candidates  received 
the  electoral  vote  of  Tennessee.  In  every  presidential  election  from  1796 
to  1832,  inclusive,  Tennessee  gave  her  vote  to  the  Democratic-Repub 
lican  candidate.  In  1824  John  Quincy  Adams  received  only  216  votes 
in  the  State,  and  in  1828  only  2,240.  In  1832  Mr.  Clay's  vote  was  1,436 
and  Jackson's  28,740.  These  figures,  compared  with  the  vote  in  1836, 
show,  first,  the  strength  of  the  Democratic  party,  and  the  utter  want 
of  opposition  to  it,  and,  second,  that  there  was  a  large  stay-at-home  vote 
in  the  State  which  must  have  been  in  some  measure  disaffected.  For 
in  1836  Van  Buren  received  26,120  votes,  only  2,000  less  than  had  been 
cast  for  Jackson  four  years  before,  while  the  aggregate  opposition  vote 
was  almost  36,000.  Making  the  largest  allowance  for  the  increase  of 
population  in  the  interval  between  the  two  elections,  it  is  still  certain 
that  almost  half  the  voters  had  been  neglecting  to  vote,  and  that  many 


JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE  317 

of  them  were  not  Democrats,  or  at  least  not  Jacksonians  in  sentiment. 
Crockett,  Williams,  White  and  Bell  led  the  way  to  overthrow  of  the  Demo 
crats.  Crockett  was  unable  to  return  to  Congress  after  1835,  Williams 
died  in  1837,  and  White  in  1840,  and  Bell  became,  as  he  was  entitled  to 
be,  the  leader  of  the  Whig  party  in  Tennessee,  and  held  that  position 
without  dispute  until  the  dissolution  of  the  party.  Thus  the  first  mani 
festation  of  serious  opposition  to  Jackson  in  Tennessee  was  in  1835;  the 
first  contest  in  which  the  party  name  Whig  was  openly  adopted  was  in 
1839,  and  the  last  distinctively  Whig  victory  in  1852.  The  election  of 
1860  will  be  considered  later. 

Tennessee,  the  second  in  age  among  the  Southwestern  States,  was 
from  1825  to  1860  the  first  in  political  importance  and  influence,  by 
reason  of  her  population  and  wealth,  by  reason  of  the  ability  of  her  pub 
lic  men,  and  not  a  little  because  Andrew  Jackson  was  a  citizen  of  the 
State.  It  was  in  the  early  part  of  this  period  that  the  West  asserted  itself, 
and  that  the  new  Democratic  influences  which  wrested  the  government 
permanently  from  the  Federalists  made  themselves  felt.  Speaking  of 
this  time,  Woodrow  Wilson  says:  "The  inauguration  of  Jackson  brought 
a  new  class  of  men  into  leadership,  and  marks  the  beginning,  for  good 
or  for  ill,  of  a  distinctively  American  order  of  politics,  begotten  of  the 
crude  forces  of  a  new  nationality.  A  change  of  political  weather,  long 
preparing,  had  set  in.  The  new  generation  which  asserted  itself  in 
Jackson  was  not  in  the  least  regardful  of  conservative  traditions."  In 
Kentucky  the  influence  of  Mr.  Clay,  always  opposed  to  Jackson,  and 
always  conservative,  gave  a  different  direction  to  opinion  and  conduct. 

From  1815  to  1835  the  political  vocabulary  of  Tennessee  was  com 
prised  in  the  one  word  Jackson.  Admiration  and  fear  alike  contributed 
to  Jackson's  influence,  and  never  was  a  public  man  more  ardently  or 
ably  supported.  Among  his  lieutenants  were  John  Overton,  John  Cat- 
ron,  John  H.  Eaton,  Aaron  V.  Brown,  Cave  Johnson,  Felix  Grundy, 
Hugh  L.  White  and  James  K.  Polk,  all  men  of  large  ability  and  in  the 
front  rank  of  Southern  leaders.  The  party  thus  led  was  long  invincible, 
and  its  defeat  came  at  last  from  over-confidence,  and  the  illiberal  and 
prescriptive  policy  of  its  imperative  chief.  But  its  overthrow  was  not 
easily  accomplished.  The  first  serious  resistance  was  made  within  three 
years  of  the  time  when  it  had  carried  the  State  with  practical  unanimity. 
Jackson,  the  hardest  of  fighters,  was  still  its  leader,  and  was  animated 
not  only  by  his  native  determination  and  by  political  prejudices  and 


JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

pride,  but  also  by  a  bitter  personal  dislike  of  the  leaders  of  the  opposition. 
After  the  defeats  of  1835  and  1836,  the  contest  lost  nothing  of  its  bitter 
ness.  In  1839  the  Democrats  elected  Polk  Governor  and  regained  con 
trol  of  the  legislature.  Hugh  L.  White  and  Ephraim  H.  Foster  were  the 
Senators  at  the  time,  and  the  Jackson  leaders  determined,  if  possible, 
to  force  them  to  resign.  The  opportunity  came  speedily.  Both  Sen 
ators  were  known  to  be  opposed  to  the  sub-treasury,  and  both  were  known 
to  believe  that  the  legislature  had  the  right  to  instruct  Senators  in  Fed 
eral  affairs.  Resolutions  were  therefore  adopted  at  Nashville,  Novem 
ber  8,  1839,  instructing  White  and  Foster  to  vote  among  other  things 
for  the  sub-treasury  bill.  The  scheme  succeeded.  In  1841  the  Whigs 
had  a  majority,  on  joint  ballot,  in  the  legislature,  but  the  Senate  being 
Democratic  by  one  majority,  the  Democrats  in  that  body,  led  by  Andrew 
Johnson,  prevented  a  quorum,  with  the  result  that  from  1841  to  1843 
Tennessee  had  no  Senators  in  Congress.  In  1843  tne  Whigs  elected 
both  Senators;  in  1845  the  Democrats  succeeded  in  displacing  one  of 
these.  In  1847  Mr.  Bell  was  elected  and  at  the  close  of  the  term  was 
re-elected,  thus  serving  continuously  for  twelve  years. 

No  other  man  in  Tennessee,  hardly  any  man  in  the  South,  was  so 
well  qualified  by  nature  and  by  training  for  the  duties  of  Senator.  In 
tellectually  he  was  inferior  probably  to  Webster  and  Calhoun,  but  to 
no  other  men  who  were  in  public  life  in  1847.  His  mind  was  large  and 
thoroughly  balanced,  his  temperament  was  equable  and  philosophic; 
he  had  been  a  diligent  student  of  the  philosophy  and  history  of  govern 
ment,  of  the  law,  and  of  general  literature;  he  was  a  speaker  of  rare  pow 
ers,  a  graceful  and  effective  rhetorician,  and  a  clear  and  discriminating 
thinker.  Above  all,  he  was  an  honest  man,  of  blameless  life,  and  a  sin 
cere  patriot. 

His  time  of  service  in  the  Senate  was  one  of  strife  and  of  incessant 
commotion  and  change  in  the  political  world.  Patriotic  expedients 
had  long  postponed  issue  in  Congress  upon  the  slavery  question,  but 
now  conditions  imperatively  demanded  its  consideration.  Mr.  Clay, 
still  devoted  to  compromise,  in  1850  secured  the  submission  of  the  pend 
ing  questions  of  sectional  difference  to  a  committee  of  thirteen  selected 
from  both  parties,  and  Bell  served  with  him  on  this  committee. 

A  bill  for  the  organization  of  Nebraska  was  introduced  in  the  session 
of  1852-1853,  but  was  not  disposed  of  until  the  following  year;  to  the 
measure,  Bell  was  strongly  opposed,  mainly  because  of  the  injustice  to 


JOHN   BELL   OF  TENNESSEE  319 

the  Indians  that  would  result  from  its  adoption.  In  1854  came  the  prop 
osition  to  repeal  the  Missouri  Compromise.  The  South,  upon  firm 
constitutional  grounds,  but  with  deplorably  mistaken  policy,  favored 
the  repeal,  and  Mr.  Bell's  vote  against  it  provoked  anger  and  widespread 
criticism  in  Tennessee.  The  repeal  of  the  Compromise  proved  to  be 
in  the  highest  degree  prejudicial  to  the  South.  When  the  Lecompton 
Constitution  for  Kansas  came  before  Congress,  Bell  did  not  hesitate,  in 
advance  of  its  consideration,  to  declare  himself  opposed  to  it.  There 
upon  the  legislature  of  Tennessee  instructed  him  to  vote  for  it.  He 
declined,  however,  to  be  instructed,  and  voted  against  the  so-called  Con 
stitution,  thereby  again  incurring  the  severest  censure.  But  he  was 
right  and  had  the  courage  to  stand  to  his  convictions.  In  1859  he  retired 
from  the  Senate.  For  seven  years  he  had  been  practically  a  man  with 
out  a  party.  In  1851,  the  Whigs  had  been  still  strong  enough  to  carry 
Tennessee  for  Scott,  but  it  was  a  barren  victory.  The  Whigs  carried 
only  four  States,  and  the  party  received  its  death-blow.  Bell  was  re 
turned  to  the  Senate,  and  thenceforth  he  and  Crittenden  of  Kentucky 
represented  the  Southern  Whigs  in  that  body.  They  were  not  only  the 
last  of  the  Whig  leaders,  but  the  last  of  the  great  men  of  their  generation 
in  the  Senate. 

Bell  returned  to  Tennessee  at  a  time  of  great  uncertainty  and  anxiety. 
The  political  sky  was  angry  and  full  of  threatenings,  and  forebodings 
of  evil  oppressed  every  patriot  heart.  Bell  loved  the  Union  with  a  sur 
passing  love,  and  his  every  sentiment  and  every  conviction  opposed  the 
doctrine  and  the  policy  of  secession.  It  is  too  soon,  now,  to  say  that 
the  conduct  of  many  Northern  leaders,  especially  of  the  more  strenuous 
advocates  of  abolition,  was  extreme,  and  their  demands  opposed  to  the 
Constitution.  But  Bell  and  other  Union  men  of  the  South  believed 
this  to  be  true.  These  genuine  patriots  and  Unionists  were  not  more 
opposed  to  Southern  "fire-eaters,"  of  the  Yancey  type,  than  to  such 
Northern  "fire-eaters"  as  Garrison  and  Phillips.  They  regarded  both 
factions  of  extremists  as  alike  responsible  for  the  danger  that  threatened 
the  Union;  and  it  is  at  least  possible  that  the  impartial  history  which  is 
yet  to  be  written  will  not  charge  the  Southern  leaders  with  all  the  un 
reasonableness  and  want  of  patriotism  that  provoked  the  Civil  War. 
Bell  was  prepared  to  make  any  personal  or  political  sacrifice  to  preserve 
the  Union.  Another  presidential  election  was  at  hand.  The  long- 
triumphant  Democracy  was  now  discordant.  The  Charleston  Con- 


320  JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

vention  marked  a  fatal  disruption  of  the  party,  and  the  existence  of  two 
irreconcilable  factions  forbade  all  hope  of  success.  The  Republican 
party,  though  young  and  not  yet  firmly  established,  was  hopeful  and 
aggressive.  There  were  many  worthy  men,  especially  in  the  South, 
who  would  not  follow  either  faction  of  the  Democracy,  and  who,  at  the 
same  time,  strongly  opposed  the  Republican  policy.  A  convention 
of  these,  representing  twenty-two  States,  met  in  Baltimore,  May  9,  1860, 
and  nominated  Bell  for  President  and  Edward  Everett  for  Vice-Presi- 
dent,  as  the  candidates  of  the  "Constitutional  Union  Party."  Bell's 
principal  competitor  for  the  nomination  was  Sam  Houston,  of  Texas. 
With  much  frankness  and  justice  the  convention  declared  that  party 
platforms  were  insincere,  and  meant  to  deceive,  and  therefore  it  promul 
gated  none,  but  contented  itself  with  the  adoption  of  a  simple  resolution, 
declaring  in  favor  of  the  Union,  the  Constitution  and  the  enforcement 
of  the  laws.  In  the  election,  Bell  and  Everett  carried  the  States  of  Ten 
nessee,  Kentucky  and  Virginia,  and  received  three  of  the  votes  of  New 
Jersey. 

The  six  months  succeeding  the  election  were  full  of  distress  for  Bell 
and  his  friends  in  Tennessee.  Isham  G.  Harris,  the  Governor,  a  man 
of  great  ability  and  of  indomitable  will,  was  now  an  avowed  secession 
ist.  Bell  was  no  less  positive  in  opposition,  and  at  first  it  seemed  that 
Tennessee  would  refuse  to  secede.  The  vote  for  Bell  and  Everett  had 
been  69,274,  for  Douglas  11,350,  for  Breckenridge  64,709.  Thus  the 
Whigs  and  the  Union  Democrats  outnumbered  the  Breckenridge  Dem 
ocrats  by  fifteen  thousand. 

On  January  7,  1861,  the  legislature  met  in  special  session,  and  shortly 
afterward  passed  a  resolution  submitting  to  the  people  the  question  of 
ordering  a  convention  to  determine  whether  or  not  the  State  would  with 
draw  from  the  Union,  and  also  providing  for  the  election  of  delegates 
to  the  convention.  The  election  was  held  February  8,  1861,  and  the 
vote  was  for  the  convention,  57,798,  against  it,  69,675.  A  better  test 
of  public  sentiment,  however,  was  the  vote  for  delegates,  cast  at  the  same 
time.  The  aggregate  vote  for  Union  delegates  was  88,803,  an^  f°r  dis 
union  delegates  24,749. 

This  election  was  accepted  as  conclusive  evidence  that  Tennessee 
would  not  secede,  and  but  for  the  events  of  the  ensuing  spring,  she  proba 
bly  would  not  have  seceded.  There  was  no  one  in  the  State  who  was 
a  disunionist  for  the  sake  of  disunion,  not  even  Governor  Harris;  but 


JOHN    BELL  OF  TENNESSEE  321 

while  East  Tennessee  had  but  few  slaves,  Middle  and  West  Tennessee 
were  large  slave-holding  sections,  having  interests  and  sentiments  in  com 
mon  with  the  States  that  had  already  seceded. 

The  attack  on  Fort  Sumter  provoked  Mr.  Lincoln's  proclamation 
of  April  15,  1 86 1,  calling  for  volunteers  to  suppress  insurrection,  and 
Governor  Harris,  when  called  upon  for  the  State's  quota,  sent  an  indig 
nant  refusal. 

This  was  the  critical  time  for  Bell  and  his  followers,  and  we  shall 
fail  to  do  justice  to  the  Whig  leader  without  knowledge  of  his  pure  char 
acter  and  lofty  patriotism,  without  a  genuine  sympathy  for  him  person 
ally  and  a  clear  perception  of  conditions  in  the  South  at  that  time.  He 
believed,  after  the  publication  of  the  President's  proclamation,  that  the 
destruction  of  the  Union  was  inevitable.  He  believed,  also,  that  the 
policy  of  the  administration  was  unconstitutional  and  revolutionary. 
Alexander  H.  Stephens  declares  that  Mr.  Lincoln's  proclamations  alone 
caused  the  Southern  Whigs  to  change  position.  He  says  that  the  Whig 
leaders  of  the  South  regarded  these  proclamations  as  the  English  peo 
ple  regarded  the  edicts  of  Charles  I.  for  ship-money. 

Three  days  after  the  appearance  of  the  proclamation  calling  for  vol 
unteers  a  number  of  the  most  prominent  Whigs  in  Tennessee,  led  by 
Mr.  Bell,  issued  an  address  in  which  they  said,  among  other  things: 
"Tennessee  is  called  upon  by  the  President  to  furnish  two  regiments, 
and  the  State  has,  through  her  executive,  refused  to  comply  with  the  call. 
This  refusal  of  our  State  we  fully  approve."  A  later  paragraph  con 
tains  the  following:  "Should  a  purpose  be  developed  by  the  govern 
ment  of  over-running  and  subjugating  our  brethren  of  the  seceded  States, 
we  say  unequivocally  that  it  will  be  the  duty  of  the  State  to  resist  at  all 
hazards,  and  at  any  cost,  and  by  force  of  arms,  any  such  purpose  or  at 
tempt."  The  address  further  calls  upon  the  State  to  arm  and  to  main 
tain  the  position  of  armed  neutrality  which  many  Southern  Whigs  vainly 
hoped  would  enable  the  conservatives  to  mediate  between  the  North 
and  the  South. 

This  address  having  been  issued,  events  speedily  dictated  the  result. 
The  South  was  threatened  with  invasion.  On  the  25th  of  April  the 
legislature  again  met  in  special  session.  The  governor  in  his  message 
boldly  advocated  secession  and  an  application  for  admission  into  the 
Southern  Confederacy.  The  ordinance  of  secession  was  passed  May  6, 
1 86 1,  affirming  not  the  constitutional  right,  but  the  revolutionary  right 

21 


322  JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

of  withdrawal  from  the  Union  in  the  following  language:  "We,  the 
people  of  the  State  of  Tennessee,  waiving  any  expression  of  opinion  as 
to  the  abstract  doctrine  of  secession,  but  asserting  the  right  as  a  free 
and  independent  people  to  alter,  reform,  or  abolish  our  form  of  govern 
ment  in  such  manner  as  we  think  proper,  do  ordain,"  etc. 

On  May  7,  the  State  entered  into  a  military  league  with  the  Con 
federacy,  and  the  legislature  appropriated  $5,000,000  to  equip  a  pro 
visional  army  of  55,000  men.  When  the  vote  was  taken,  June  8,  it  stood 
for  secession  104,903,  against  secession  47,238;  for  representation  in 
the  Confederate  Congress  101,701,  against  representation  47,364.  On 
the  24th  of  June  the  governor  issued  his  proclamation  formally  dissolv 
ing  the  connection  of  Tennessee  with  the  United  States,  and  on  the  2d 
of  July,  President  Jefferson  Davis  declared  Tennessee  a  member  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy.  Mr.  Bell  went  with  the  State. 

In  the  brief  political  campaign  preceding  the  June  election,  his  in 
fluence  was  actively  exerted  in  favor  of  the  measure  which  up  to  that 
time  he  had  strenuously  opposed.  He  did  not  advocate  nor  approve 
secession  as  a  political  doctrine,  but  in  the  spirit  of  the  State  ordinance, 
asserted  that  conditions  required  the  exercise  of  the  right  of  revolution. 
Northern  writers  have  condemned  him  severely  for  his  course  at  this 
time.  Mr.  Elaine  says:  "If  Mr.  Bell  had  taken  firm  ground  for  the  Union, 
the  secession  movement  would  have  been  to  a  very  great  extent  paralyzed 
in  the  South."  Comparing  Bell  with  Everett  he  says:  "If  Mr.  Bell 
had  stood  beside  him  with  equal  courage  and  equal  determination,  Ten 
nessee  would  never  have  seceded  and  the  Rebellion  would  have  been 
confined  to  the  seven  original  States.  A  large  share  of  the  responsi 
bility  for  the  dangerous  development  of  the  Rebellion  must,  therefore, 
be  attributed  to  John  Bell  and  his  half-million  Southern  supporters  of 
the  old  Whig  party.  At  the  critical  moment  they  signally  failed." 

These  censures  are  in  a  large  measure  unjust,  and  they  demonstrate 
the  want  of  an  accurate  knowledge  of  Mr.  Bell's  character  and  opinions, 
and  of  political  conditions  in  the  South  before  the  war.  Bell  was  a  man 
of  extraordinary  purity  of  character  and  was  sincere  in  every  act  and 
utterance  of  his  public  life.  He  rejected  the  doctrine  that  the  Constitu 
tion  authorized  secession  for  any  cause.  He  did  not  believe  that  any 
State  could,  of  its  own  motion,  lawfully  separate  from  the  Union;  but  upon 
the  other  hand  he  held  the  Southern  rather  than  the  Northern  view  of 
the  limitations  of  the  Federal  government  over  the  States,  and  was  sincere 


JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE  323 

in  the  belief  that  the  conduct  of  the  government  in  April,  1861,  was  so 
gross  a  violation  of  the  Constitution  as  to  justify  Tennessee  in  declaring 
her  independence.  It  is  not  intended  here  to  offer  any  argument  in 
support  of  these  opinions,  but  only  to  declare,  that  whether  they  were 
right  or  wrong,  Mr.  Bell  held  them  in  good  faith.  Therefore,  his  con 
duct  at  this  time  was  not  a  "signal  failure,"  but  an  act  of  conscience, 
not  a  manifestation  of  weakness  of  character,  but  of  devotion  to  convic 
tion  and  to  duty,  made  fearlessly,  but  with  infinite  reluctance  and 
distress. 

That  anything  that  he  could  have  done  would  have  prevented  the 
secession  of  Tennessee  is  not  true.  The  doctrine  of  States'  Rights  and 
State  loyalty  had  pervaded  the  entire  South,  and  many  thousands  of 
genuine  patriots  and  sincere  lovers  of  the  Union  with  aching  hearts  fol 
lowed  their  States  out  of  the  Union,  under  the  compulsion  of  an  honest 
sense  of  duty.  But  an  overwhelming  majority  of  the  people  of  the  slave- 
holding  States  demanded  secession,  and  carried  their  point.  The  senti 
ment  was  irresistible.  It  has  been  asserted  that  Governor  Harris  forced 
Tennessee  out  of  the  Union,  while  Bell  failed  in  courage  and  duty  at 
the  critical  moment.  Against  the  latter  accusation  it  has  already  been 
shown  that  Bell  really  displayed  courage  of  the  highest  order.  But  it 
is  further  true  that  superficial  observers  have  attributed  to  Bell  and  to 
Harris  a  degree  of  influence  vastly  in  excess  of  what  either  possessed. 
The  great  currents  of  popular  sentiment  that  were  sweeping  over  the 
South  at  that  time  irresistibly  carried  all  men,  great  and  small,  one  way 
or  the  other.  Harris  did  not  cause  the  secession  of  Tennessee,  and  could 
not  have  prevented  it.  If  Bell  had  been  a  man  ten  times  greater  and 
ten  times  more  influential,  he  could  not  have  held  Tennessee  in  the  Union, 
after  Mr.  Lincoln's  call  for  volunteers.  That  was  a  task  beyond  human 
power.  Leaders  no  longer  led.  The  popular  will  was  supreme.  If 
Bell  had  not  yielded,  as  he  did,  to  the  honest  belief  that  his  duty  lay  with 
the  people  of  Tennessee,  he  would  have  been  brushed  aside  or  crushed 
by  this  tremendous  sentiment.  And  so  if  Harris,  with  all  the  vigor  of 
his  intense  and  imperious  nature,  had  attempted  to  stem  the  tide,  he 
also  would  have  been  lost.  Both  were  men  of  extraordinary  force  and 
influence,  but  the  events  of  the  time  obscured  all  persons  and  all  per 
sonal  influence. 

In  the  war  Mr.  Bell  had  no  part,  and  never  after  1860  did  he  attract 
or  seek   public   attention.     He   had   not   been    sufficiently  in   sympathy 


324  JOHN   BELL  OF  TENNESSEE 

with  secession  to  win  the  favor  of  the  South,  and  at  the  North  much 
odium  was  unjustly  attached  to  his  name.  This  country  has  produced 
no  more  sincerely  or  unselfishly  patriotic  man,  none  whose  life  was  more 
thoroughly  squared  with  conviction.  To  no  American  did  the  war  bring 
deeper  grief,  and  never  did  opprobrium  more  unjustly  fall  upon  an  honor 
able  and  a  good  man.  He  died  September  18,  1869. 

That  he  was  not  fitted  for  times  of  revolution  must  be  admitted.  He 
was  not  a  man  of  action,  but  of  thought;  a  scholar,  a  philosopher,  a  scrup 
ulous  and  cautious,  but  great  statesman.  He  had  almost  none  of  the 
qualities  that  made  his  great  antagonist  Andrew  Jackson  a  successful 
popular  leader.  The  scholarly  and  philosophic  cast  of  his  mind,  the 
habit  of  considering  all  sides  of  every  question,  gave  to  his  conduct  some 
times  the  appearance  of  indecision.  He  did  not  decide  quickly,  but 
slowly  and  carefully;  but  a  conclusion  once  reached  was  fearlessly  main 
tained.  In  later  life  he  perhaps  lacked  aggressiveness,  though  this  was 
not  true  of  him  in  his  early  days,  and  especially  in  his  brilliant  canvass 
against  Grundy  in  1827.  He  was  a  leader  in  the  two  political  struggles 
which  were  the  most  momentous  in  the  history  of  Tennessee.  In  the 
fierce  battle  against  Jackson,  he  was  successful  and  won  the  leadership 
of  a  great  party.  In  the  contest  of  1861  he  was  compelled  by  a  sense 
of  duty  to  yield,  but  he  retired  in  honor;  and  dispassionate  history  will 
rank  him  among  the  ablest,  the  purest  and  the  best  men  our  country 
has  produced. 


THE  CHRONICLE  OF  1907.* 

PROLOGUE,    CLASSICAL. 

Every  poet  of  old  had  a  well-strung  shell 

And  therefore  his  numbers  were  easy  to  tell; 

And  each  of  them  owned  a  resonant  reed, 

And  mounted,  at  will,  on  a  winged  steed; 

There  were  plentiful  springs  for  refreshing  the  bard, 

Whenever  he  found  that  the  going  was  hard; 

There  were  numberless  nymphs,  tradition  tells, 

All  warily  watching  these  wonderful  wells; 

There  were  mountains  prepared  for  poets  to  climb 

When  especially  bent  upon  being  sublime; 

Then,  shepherds  reclining  beneath  the  beeches, 

Gave  vent  to  their  loves  in  lyrical  speeches; 

As  Tityrus  trolling  to  his  Amaryllis, 

Or  Corydon  piping  the  praises  of  Phyllis. 

These  pastoral  lasses  had  classical  looks 

And  were  strolling  all  day  by  classical  brooks, 

Commanding  large  flocks  with  classical  crooks, 

And  making  nice  verses  for  classical  books. 

The  lords  of  Olympus,  their  records  disclose, 

Would  scarcely  consent  to  use  any  prose; 

But  granting  a  blessing  or  giving  a  curse, 

They  always  expressed  it  in  excellent  verse. 

When  Jupiter  quarreled  with  jealous  Juno, 

He  thundered  in  faultless  Alcaics,  you  know; 

And  the  Queen  of  Olympus  could  always  retort 

In  phrases  emphatic,  of  a  similar  sort. 

The  verses  of  Venus  were  very  Adonic, 

While  Apollo  adopted  the  major  Ionic. 

Minerva  was  wise  in  iambic  trimeter, 

And  Mercury  lied  in  just  any  meter. 

Thus  up  on  Olympus,  and  down  on  the  earth 

Everybody  made  verses  for  all  he  was  worth. 

The  cause  of  it  all,  perhaps  was  the  Muses, 

Though  one  may  believe  whatever  he  chooses. 

These  obliging  young  goddesses  never  denied, 

But  imparted  afflatus  to  all  who  applied. 

They  made  a  large  family,  these  sisters  divine, 

Amounting  in  all  to  the  number  of  nine; 


*The  last  of  a  series  of  sketches,  numbering  about  a  dozen,  of  the  Irving  Club  and  its  members, 
full  of  personal  reference  and  humorous  flavor,  read  at  club  meetings  by  the  President  at  will. 

(325) 


326  THE   CHRONICLE   OF    1907 

All  kin  in  some  wise  to  incontinent  Jove, 
The  King  of  the  gods  who  was  always  in  love. 
These  Muses  all  lived  on  a  marvelous  mount 
Frequented  by  poets  in  search  of  a  fount. 
Thus  with  Jove  and  his  family  all  in  their  prime, 
And  all  of  them  greatly  addicted  to  rhyme, 
With  the  shepherds  all  puffing  melodious  reeds, 
And  the  fauns  all  footing  on  flowery  meads, 
And  everybody  singing  a  madrigal, 
And  nobody  thinking  of  working  at  all, 
With  all  of  the  Muses  at  home  at  Parnassus, 
The  ancients  of  Greece  could  greatly  surpass  us 
In  verse  and  in  prose, 
As  every  one  knows, 
In  arts  that  are  plastic, 
And  wit  that  is  drastic, 
In  tragedies  fearful  as  well  as  fantastic, 
To  say  nothing  concerning  their  morals  elastic. 
But  it  happened  in  time  great  changes  occurred, 
And  the  gods  and  the  Greeks  alike  were  disturbed. 
For  very  good  reasons  Olympian  Jove 
And  most  of  his  family  decided  to  move; 
But  for  causes  occult,  that  can't  be  defined, 
They  heartlessly  left  all  the  Muses  behind. 
With  baggage  and  bag  the  rest  disappeared 
And  just  where  they  went  we  never  have  heard. 
We  do  not  complain  for,  leaving  out  Plutus, 
They  are  gods  of  a  sort  that  never  would  suit  us. 
When  the  Olympians  left  they  dried  up  the  springs 
And  took  all  the  horses  that  had  any  wings. 
And  now  all  the  nymphs  and  dryads  have  flown 
And  the  Muses  are  left  on  their  mountain  alone. 
The  Greeks  have  discarded  idyllic  pursuits, 
And  taken  to  blacking  barbarian  boots. 
Thus  basely  abandoned  by  father  and  mothers, 
(For  the  mother  of  each  was  no  kin  to  the  others) 
The  fate  of  the  Muses  was  truly  pathetic, 
And,  finding  the  Hellenes  no  longer  aesthetic, 
And  the  sons  of  Ajax 
All  turning  shoe  blacks 
Or  resorting  to  other  unclassical  acts, 
The  whole  of  the  nine  began  to  repine, 
And  all  of  the  arts  went  into  decline. 
But  Euterpe,  the  joyous,  most  gracious  of  all, 
Still  pipes  on  occasion  to  her  worshipers'  call. 


THE   CHRONICLE   OF    igOJ  327 


NARRATIVE,    UNCLASSICAL. 

Dr.  Richmond  sat  in  the  reader's  chair, 

And  Maynard  and  Milton  and  Mellen  were  there, 

And  several  preachers 

And  several  teachers 

With  astonishment  stamped  on  their  several  features. 
'Twas  a  deep  dissertation,  on  the  Volcano 
That  the  Doctor  delivered  as  you  doubtless  know, 
And  he  read  in  a  way  that  could  not  but  tend 
To  stand  each  several  hair  on  its  end. 
He  told  of  the  fire  forever  aglow 
In  the  dismal  deeps  of  the  earth  below, 
Devouring  the  rocks  and  raging  amain, 
Like  a  baited  beast  in  the  sorest  pain, 
Till  some  Aetna  at  last  affords  it  a  vent, 
And  it  damages  things  to  a  dreadful  extent. 
He  painted  the  picture  in  colors  so  lurid 
That  everyone  present  was  visibly  flurried, 
The  Judge  was  seen  to  shiver  and  shake 
And  remained  for  the  rest  of  the  evening — awake. 


On  the  heels  of  this  epic  of  the  Volcano 
Trod  the  terrible  tale  of  the  tornado; 
Jourolmon,  he  told  it,  with  never  a  smile, 
A  visage  without  a  suspicion  of  guile, 
Its  raging  and  roaring, 
Its  sinking  and  soaring, 
Its  groaning  and  growling, 
Its  hissing  and  howling, 
A  tale  of  destruction  extremely  appalling; 
Also  of  the  pranks  that  it  frequently  plays, 
Being  wholly  erratic  in  all  of  its  ways, 
Of  lovers  caught  strolling,  and  lifted  up  high 
And  carried  along  very  close  to  the  sky, 
Then  gently  set  down,  as  Jourolmon  depones, 
The  maid  and  her  lover  with  no  broken  bones; 
How  a  maiden  forlorn  was  left  in  the  lurch 
Impaled  on  the  steeple  of  a  Methodist  Church. 
Then  Olmstead  determined  to  give  him  a  shock 
And  told  how  a  cyclone  had  wound  up  a  clock. 


THE   CHRONICLE   OF 


Then  Baker  said  blandly  I'll  stick  to  the  facts, 
And  place  your  credulity  under  no  tax, 
I  tell  of  the  deeps 
Where  the  oyster  sleeps, 
Where  Leviathan  blows 
And  the  octopus  grows, 
And  the  tidal  wave  tremendously  flows, 
This  wave  is  the  quickest  thing  under  the  sun, 
It  has  hardly  begun,  before  it  is  done. 
A  certain  one  started  from  Honolulu 
And  reached  Panama  in  a  minute  or  two, 
And  then  it  went  back,  which  didn't  take  long, 
For  two  minutes  later  it  reached  Hongkong. 


Said  KefFer,  a  farmer  detests  and  despises 
A  panic  financial,  and  also  a  crisis. 
As  a  farmer  I  sow 
Things  that  frequently  grow, 
And  I  plow  with  a  plow, 
Or  at  least  I  know  how, 
But  my  present  disgust  I  freely  avow; 
And  I  notify  now  the  program  committee 
I'll  have  my  revenge,  and  I'll  show  them  no  pity. 
I  excel  all  my  neighbors  by  many  degrees, 
In  the  science  of  breeding  and  doctoring  trees. 
I  exterminate  bugs  with  infinite  craft, 
And  defy  competition  in  the  matter  of  graft. 
But  it's  very  little  short  of  being  Satanic 
To  force  me  to  write  concerning  a  panic. 


Then  the  Editor  said:  "Let  KefFer  alone, 
You'll  know  all  about  it,  as  soon  as  I'm  done, 
For  I  shall  condense 
The  learning  immense 

Which  the  file  of  the  Sentinel  fully  presents, 
And  that  is  the  paper  to  patronize 
When  you've  anything  fit  to  advertise." 
He  pictured  the  panics  that  have  gone  before 
And  showed  us  the  way  to  prevent  any  more. 
If  his  sapient  rule  we  securely  seize, 
There  can  never  be  another  financial  squeeze. 


THE    CHRONICLE   OF    1907  329 

Then  Bruce,  with  his  pen  in  profundity  dipped, 
Produced  an  illegible  manuscript, 

For  Bruce  is  prolific 
Of  hieroglyphic, 

Compounded  of  characters  truly  terrific. 
But  he's  read  all  the  books,  and  most  of  them  twice, 
And  writes  in  a  style  that's  uncommonly  nice. 
He  slightly  condensed  the  limitless  prose 
That  deals  with  Pamela  and  all  of  her  woes. 
The  virtuous  deeds  of  that  virtuous  maid, 
Were  never  more  kindly,  benignly  portrayed. 
The  Doctor  is  always  so  touchingly  tender, 
In  all  that  relates  to  the  feminine  gender, 
And  resembles  the  late  Sir  Galahad, 
Who,  always  was  good,  and  never  was  bad. 


Good  rhyme  as  a  rule  is  not  over-abundant, 
But,  writing  of  Rosses,  it's  really  redundant. 

You  indite  the  name  Ross, 
Shall  you  rhyme  it  with  boss 
Or  oppose  it  with  cross, 

Or  mate  it  with  moss, 

Or  irreverent  sauce, 

Or  vernacular  goss? 

Just  what  to  select  you  are  sadly  at  loss. 
A  thane  of  the  Rosses  was  friend  of  Banquo, 
When  bloody  Macbeth  laid  that  gentleman  low; 
And  in  subsequent  ages,  the  whole  way  down, 
The  clan  of  the  Rosses  has  been  of  renown. 
But  best  of  them  all,  most  highly  deserving, 
Is  Ross  of  that  ilk  who  belongs  to  the  Irving; 
Who  writes  up  the  battle  of  New  Orleans, 
With  mutliple  maps  to  show  what  he  means, 
Or  tells  the  adventures  of  tough  Tom  Jones, 
Which  he  rather  enjoys,  but  never  condones. 


In  Hoskins,  the  sage,  profound  erudite, 

See  learning  with  wisdom  in  concord  unite; 
To  judge  from  his  looks 
He  lives  upon  books 

Entirely  beyond  the  seductions  of  cooks. 

His  knowledge  embraces  the  sum  of  affairs, 


330  THE   CHRONICLE   OF 

And  he  sits  upon  three  professorial  chairs. 

With  affluent  learning  he  daily  descants 

On  the  nebulous  science  of  higher  finance; 

And  the  light  of  his  learning  resplendently  shines 

Through  the  clouds  that  enshroud  the  trusts  and  combines. 

He  teaches  ten  topics  of  largest  extent 

And  his  genius  still  craves  an  adequate  vent. 


Say,  kindly  Muse,  why  blessings  come  in  showers 
And  fortune  smiles  upon  the  house  of  Powers? 

He  holds  an  election 

Without  imperfection, 

Or  his  genius  escapes  our  feeble  detection. 
He  recently  had  the  good  fortune  to  seize 
An  office  productive  of  very  fat  fees, 
But  the  ultimate  honor  one  ever  wins 
Is  that  which  pertains  to  a  parent  of  twins. 


Discussing  a  Doctor  of  Divinity 
One  must  have  due  regard  for  concinnity; 
For  these  gentlemen  ghostly 
Are  sensitive  mostly 

And  clerical  censures  are  sure  to  be  costly. 
Dr.  Olmstead  now  lives  in  Tennessee; 
But  residing  abroad,  in  Venice  he 
Acquired  vast  knowledge,  as  everyone  knows, 
Concerning  Venetians  and  other  Dagoes; 
And  he  owns  a  lecture  which  fully  describes 
The  wonders  of  Venice,  with  lantern  slides. 
But  the  Doctor  is  best,  by  at  least  one-half, 
When  he's  quoting  or  making  an  epitaph. 


The  parsons  of  Irving  are  all  of  the  best, 

And  their  praises  I'm  sounding  with  infinite  zest. 

I  dedicate  humbly  the  lines  that  ensue 

To  the  parson  whose  hosen  are  said  to  be  blue. 

This  sterilized  phrase 

I  am  sure  displays 

A  delicacy  worthy  of  generous  praise. 
Mr.  Ogden's  debut,  as  you  will  recall  it, 


THE   CHRONICLE   OF    igOJ  331 


Was  made  in  discussion  of  rare  Toby  Smollett, 

Of  his  Roderick  Random,  the  reprobate, 

And  prodigal  Pickle,  the  peregrinate. 

He  later  astounded  us  altogether 

By  luminous  learning  relating  to  leather. 


A  gentleman  large  now  looms  on  my  vision, 
Denominate  Maynard,  to  speak  with  precision, 

Of  dignified  mien 
As  ever  was  seen, 

A  gentleman  courtly,  and  portly  I  ween. 
He  has  seen  foreign  lands,  and  thereon  expands 
Whenever  occasion  permits  or  demands. 
He  heard  Baker  tell  of  the  tide-wave's  rush, 
And  then  proceeded  to  give  him  a  crush. 
He  was  down  in  the  tropics,  on  the  Spanish  main, 
And  he  witnessed  the  work  of  a  big  hurricane. 
'Twas  many  times  worse,  as  the  story  he  gave, 
Than  Baker's  improbable  Panama  wave; 
For  it  took  up  a  ship  as  it  lay  at  rest, 
And  dropped  it  down  on  a  mountain's  crest; 
And  there  on  the  mountain  that  ship  will  stay, 
If  it  last  so  long,  till  the  Judgment  Day. 


To  trace  Richard  Gibson's  itinerary 
Since  first  he  began  to  be  literary, 

Would  surely  astound  us 
And  fairly  confound  us, 

Disclosing  such  deeds  as  would  daze  and  dumbfound  us. 
The  sum  of  his  writing  is  truly  tremendous, 
The  mass  of  his  thinking  is  simply  stupendous. 
It  is  not  improper  that  I  should  add, 
That  he  only  writes  on  a  pencil  pad, 
And  he  writes  so  much  and  uses  so  many, 
He  exhausts  the  supply  and  doesn't  leave  any. 
His  favorite  authors  are  the  recondite, 
And  he  still  reads  Browning  every  night. 
He  prefers  this  author  because  he's  so  nice, 
He  never  understands  him  the  same  way  twice; 
And  he  still  reprobates  Boccaccio 
As  "a  blamed  immoral  old  Dago." 


332  THE   CHRONICLE   OF    1907 

All  hail  to  thee,  Mellen,  man  of  many  parts, 
Beloved  of  Apollo,  opulent  in  arts; 
Ever  constant,  sage  Klio,  at  thy  sacred  shrine, 
Nor  ever  inconstant,  Polymnia,  at  thine. 
To  bring  down  my  meaning  within  easier  reach, 
He's  highly  historic,  and  happy  of  speech; 
For  whatever  has  rust,  he  has  infinite  gust, 
And  he  savors  the  dust  of  antiquity's  must. 
He's  a  farmer  like  Flaccus, 
A  patriot  like  Gracchus, 
A  parent  possessing 
A  generous  blessing; 

But  all  that  he  is  I  despair  of  expressing. 
He's  now  on  the  tripod,  didactic  and  solemn, 
Diurnally  doing  a  double-width  column. 


We  think  of  the  preacher  as  one  of  the  mystics, 
And  hardly  expect  him  to  give  us  statistics; 
But  the  Rector,  perceiving  our  country's  salvation, 
Endangered  by  want  of  increased  immigration, 

Has  shown  us  the  fact 

By  figures  exact 

And  large  mathematics,  that  can't  be  attacked. 
He  worked  up  the  figures,  nor  did  his  work  cease 
Till  his  columns  were  longer  than  those  of  Xerxes. 
These  columns  compulsive  were  doughtily  led, 
To  prove  every  word  their  Commander  had  said; 
Their  onset  tremendous  put  to  flight  every  doubt, 
And  scattered  resistance  in  ruinous  rout. 
The  Rector  went  home,  elated,  that  night, 
But  the  story  got  out  soon  after  daylight; 
And  every  newcomer  with  woes  to  tell 
Running  straight  to  the  rectory,  rang  the  bell. 
They  went  to  the  number  of  six  hundred  and  one, 
And  spoke  every  language  under  the  sun; 
But  all  languages  led  to  one  certain  end, 
Six  hundred  said  "give,"  the  remainder  said  "lend." 


All  accounts  from  the  days  of  the  Conquerors  down, 
Have  assigned  to  the  Aztecs  the  greatest  renown; 
Their  civilization  was  unspeakably  old, 
And  their  pockets  were  always  distended  with  gold; 


THE   CHRONICLE   OF    IQO/  333 

They  were  blazing  in  scarlet,  and  feathers  chromatic, 
And  their  houses  were  gorgeous  from  cellar  to  attic. 

But  alas  for  the  story 

Of  the  Aztec  glory, 

When  Turner  assaulted  these  legends  so  hoary. 
With  Prescott  he  frequently  wiped  up  the  earth 
And  treated  his  volumes  with  rancorous  mirth; 
He  went  for  the  Mexican,  tore  off  his  bonnet, 
And  then  threw  it  down  and  trampled  upon  it. 
He  razed  all  the  temples,  pulled  down  all  the  pictures, 
And  plied  the  poor  Aztecs  with  pitiless  strictures; 
In  short,  he  demolished  each  honored  tradition 
With  cruel  completeness  and  great  expedition: 
And  of  Baker's  learn'd  paper  which  Maynard  had  read 
This  ruthless  iconoclast  left  not  a  shred. 


It  is  true  and  is  trite  that  White's  information 
Goes  first  to  the  farthest  confines  of  creation, 
Then  soars  afar  into  scenes  that  dismay  us, 
The  spaces  ruled  over  by  night  and  by  chaos. 

His  wide  observation 

And  wise  meditation, 

His  bold  speculation 

And  excogitation 

Elicit  diffused  and  deserved  admiration. 
His  knowledge  of  letters  defies  allegation, 
His  profusion  of  facts  exceeds  supputation. 
Encyclopedias  he  holds  in  disdain 
Because  of  the  limited  facts  they  contain. 
To  Webster  or  Worcester  he  never  descends, 
The  Century  censures  or  aptly  amends. 
His  speech  in  Chaldaic  is  idiomatic, 
And  his  favorite  writing  is  the  old  hieratic; 
So  profound  are  his  studies,  he  often  must  seek 
For  relief  in  the  levity  of  Kant's  Critique. 


I  sing  the  high  virtues  of  that  time  honored  stock 
Whose  pedigree  is  planted  on  proud  Plymouth  rock, 
Who  pre-empted  New  England  and  then  hurried  West 
To  get  everything,  and  got  all  the  best; 
Then  scattered  more  ways  than  can  well  be  expressed 
In  earnest  endeavor  to  get  all  the  rest. 


334  THE   CHRONICLE   OF    1907 

Their  tempers  were  touchy,  and  not  at  all  placid, 

Their  virtues,  though  various,  perceptibly  acid. 

They  devised  the  blue  code  of  beneficent  laws 

That  punished  everybody  without  any  cause. 

Whatever  one  did,  these  laws  he  was  breaching 

Except  when  breathing  or  sleeping  or  preaching. 

On  Sundays  they  stopped  all  their  eating  and  drinking 

And  never  attempted  to  do  their  own  thinking. 

The  pietist  Pilgrim,  each  Saturday  night, 

Put  away  all  pleasures  and  locked  them  up  tight, 

Retaining,  however,  his  big  musketoon 

With  which  he  blew  Pequots  as  high  as  the  moon; 

But  now  I  must  tell  of  the  lapsing  from  grace 

Of  a  lineal  son  of  this  virtuous  race. 

There's  a  game  which  the  bare-legged  Highlander  plays 

With  a  ball  and  a  bat  on  his  barren  old  braes; 

Aforetime  they  called  it  the  "good  game  of  goff," 

Then  they  put  in  an  1,  and  took  an  f  off. 

By  this  Keltic  diversion  the  Judge  was  seduced, 

And  marvelous  changes  his  fall  has  produced. 

Of  old  he  permitted  not  a  Sunday  to  pass 

Without  teaching  a  nice  little  Sunday-school  class, 

Of  nice  little  girls  exceedingly  dressed 

And  nice  little  boys  all  greatly  depressed. 

But  sadly,  alas,  it  has  now  come  to  pass 

That  he  never  goes  near  a  Sunday-school  class. 

Whenever  he  can  he  goes  for  a  Sunday, 

To  a  place  where  they  act  as  if  it  were  Monday; 

And  whenever  day  breaks 

On  Sunday,  he  wakes 

And  the  road  to  the  golf  links  instantly  takes. 
His  pious  forefather  with  his  steeple-crown  hat 
Never  bothered  a  ball  nor  looked  at  a  bat; 
On  Sunday  he  walked  at  a  decorous  pace 
With  a  lachrymose  look  and  funereal  face. 
The  scion,  on  Sunday,  resorts  to  high  jinks 
With  Belial's  sons  on  impious  links; 
With  trembling  I  look  for  a  woeful  requital, 
And  in  sadness  conclude  this  painful  recital. 
Dec.  2,  1907. 


NOTES  CRITICAL  AND  EXPLANATORY 

1.  JUDGE  INGERSOLL.     The  fact   that   the   statements   made   in   re 
gard  to  Judge  Ingersoll  are  in  the  main  incorrect,  if  tested  by  the  prosaic 
standard  of  actuality,  is  not  regarded  as  a  defect  in  the  poem,  because 
a  poet's  paramount  and  most  essential  faculty  is  fancy.     To  be  accu 
rate  is  to  be  dull,  and  therefore  the  fault  is  one  that  men  almost  invari 
ably  shun.     In  the  case  of  ordinary  persons  this  avoidance  is,  usually, 
a  matter  of  choice,  but  with  poets  is  it  a  necessity.     Poems  are  tested 
primarily  by  the  power  of  imagination,  which  they  display,  and  are  dis 
torted   and   disfigured   by  avoidable  facts.     That  Judge   Ingersoll   does 
not  habitually  play  golf  on  Sunday  is  a  fact.     To  affirm  the  contrary 
is  to  exercise  the  important  and  invaluable  faculty  of  imagination  and 
to  improve  the  poem.     Consider  how  unspeakably  commonplace,  and 
uninteresting  it  would  have  been  to  allege  merely  that  the  Judge  does 
not  play  golf  on  Sunday.     It  is  inconceivable  that  any  poet  would  coin 
rhymes  for  the  embodiment  of  a  declaration  so  prosaic.     On  the  other 
hand,  the  fact  that  the  poet  possesses  an  imagination  capable  of  such 
a  flight  as  that  which  is  taken  in  the  poem  is  regarded  as  a  very  sufficient 
foundation  for  a  reasonable  super-structure  of  pride. 

2.  MR.  BAKER.     The  writer  now  recollects  that  Mr.  Baker  declared 
that  a  tidal  wave  crossed  the  Pacific  Ocean  in  either  three  or  five  min 
utes,  but  the  adoption  in  the  poem  of  two  minutes  as  the  time  of  transit 
was  made  for  the  sake  of  effect,  and  is  further  justified  by  the  fact  that 
it  does  not  at  all  detract  from  the  credibility  of  Mr.  Baker's  affirmation. 

3.  MR.  WHITAKER.     It  may  add  to  the  effectiveness  of  what  is  said 
of  Mr.  Whitaker  to  state  that  among  his  callers  were  certain  Armenians 
who  demonstrated  forcibly  the  exceptional  capacity  of  their  ancient  and 
astute  race  for  persistent  solicitation,  with  a  concomitant  incapacity  to 
recognize  the  quality  or  purpose  of  negations. 

4.  DR.  OLMSTEAD.     Dr.  Olmstead  did  not  say  that  he  saw  a  cyclone 
wind  up  a  clock,  but  only  that  he  had  heard  it  said.     It  may  be  assumed, 
however,  with  absolute  confidence  that  the  Doctor  would  not  add  to  the 
currency  of  a   statement  containing  any  element  of  inaccuracy,   unless 
indeed   he   should   engage   in   metrical   composition. 

5.  DR.  RICHMOND.     I    have   omitted   the    statement    by    Dr.    Rich 
mond  that  the  late  Louisville  cyclone  bored  a  hole  through  the  roof  of 

(335) 


NOTES   CRITICAL  AND   EXPLANATORY 

a  house  and  purloined  a  pan  of  hot  water  without  spilling  any  of  the 
contents.  I  felt  that  it  was  the  Doctor's  duty  to  posterity  to  preserve 
this  unique  occurrence  in  permanent  poetical  form. 

6.  MR.  JOUROLMON.     I  have  omitted,  for  want  of  space  only,  the 
fact  that  the  young  lady,  dealt  with  so  gently  by  the  tornado,  had  red 
hair,  and  that  while  she  was  at  the  apogee  of  her  orbit  she  encountered 
a  white  horse  taking  a   similar  flight.     This   interesting  verification  of 
an  ancient  adage  deserves,  however,  to  be  recorded  as  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  facts  that  our  investigations  have  ever  developed. 

7.  MR.  MAYNARD.     Mr.    Maynard   will   pardon   the   elimination   of 
two  of  the  three  ships  which  the  tornado   deposited  on  the  mountain 
top,  and  the  more  readily,  it  is  hoped,  when  the  writer  states  that  he 
had  in  mind  the  largest  of  the  three.     A  mortifying  infirmity  of  mem 
ory  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  say  whether  the  mountain  was  ten  thou 
sand  or  fifteen  thousand  feet  high. 

8.  MR.  MILTON.     The   readers   of  The  Sentinel  will  all  agree   that 
the  editorial  columns  of  that  invaluable  journal  abound  in  the  most  im 
pressive  fiscal  profundity.     It  might  be  asserted  that  if  all  the  sugges 
tions  to  be  found  there  were  adopted,  there  would  be,  not  only  a  sure 
avoidance  of  panics,  but  a  financial  revolution  as  far  reaching  and  as 
beneficent  in  its  results  as  the  displacement  of  the  Ptolemaic  or  geocen 
tric  system  of  astronomy,  by  the  doctrines  of  Keppler,  Copernicus,  and 
Newton. 

9.  DR.  MELLEN.     It   is   noted  with   interest   by  the   friends  of  Dr. 
Mellen  that  whereas,  before   his   assumption  of  editorial   functions   his 
physique  was  marked  by  the  tenuity  which  is  common  to  those  who  en 
gage  habitually  in  perspiration,  he  is  now  growing  stout.     It  is  known 
that  the  Doctor  has  been  engaged  for  a  number  of  years  upon  his  farm 
in  training,  for  the  racing  field,  certain  species  of  domestic  animals  here 
tofore  utilized  exclusively  for  beef  and  bacon,  and  that  by  scientific  breed 
ing  and  training  he  has  brought  some  of  these,  of  the  razor-back  species, 
up  to   a  wholly  unprecedented  velocity    of   movement.      This   required 
constant  and  wearing  physical  exertion  on  his  own  part.     Since  he  be 
came  an  editor,  his  writings  have  been  exceedingly  restful  to   himself 
as  well  as  to  his  readers,  and  it  is  with  the  most  genuine  pleasure  that 
his  very  perceptible  increase  of  weight  is  recorded. 

10.  MR.  KEFFER  has  been  engaged  in  agricultural  and  horticultural 
experimentations   of  a   most   elaborate    and    beneficent   character.     His 


NOTES   CRITICAL   AND    EXPLANATORY  337 

field  of  operation  was  the  middle  and  western  grand  divisions  of  this 
State.  His  proceedings  have  been  largely  insecticidal,  with  the  result 
of  an  unprecedented  mortality  among  the  noxious  arboreal  bugs  of  those 
grand  divisions.  If  his  present  successes  should  continue,  it  is  believed 
that  he  will  eventually,  and  justly,  become  as  renowned  in  the  matter 
of  bugs  as  St.  Patrick  is  in  respect  of  snakes. 

11.  MR.  WHITE  has  not  yet  recovered  from  the  disturbance  of  his 
nervous  organization  caused  by  his  appearance  in  one  of  The  Sentinel's 
cartoons.     It  is  reported  that  in  order  to  divert  his  mind  after  the  appear 
ance  of  the   cartoon    he    increased    his    reading   hours  from  eighteen   to 
twenty-three,  allowing  himself  only  one   hour  for  the  two  purposes  of 
eating  and  sleeping. 

12.  MR.  POWERS,  having  been  elected  City  Attorney,  stoops  a  little 
under  the  weight  of  responsibility  as  Hercules  did  when  Atlas  dropped 
the  earth  on  his  shoulders.     The  writer  is  informed  by  Mr.  Powers  that 
his  election  to  this  office  is  regarded  as  a  calamity  of  the  first  magnitude 
to  litigants  against  the  city,  except  by  his  defeated  competitors. 

13.  MR.   OGDEN    has    demonstrated     a  versatility    of    talent  which, 
while  it  is  not  surprising,  is  extremely  gratifying,  as  will  be  demonstrated 
by  reference  to  only  four  of  the  many  subjects  which  he  has  elucidated, 
recently,  within   and  without  the  club,  viz.:   Tobias    Smollett,   Leather, 
Prehistoric  Ireland  and  Capital  Punishment. 

14.  MR.  GIBSON.     The  author  is  compelled  to   regret  his  inability 
to  make  adequate  reference  to  Mr.  Gibson's  recent  fascinating  and  com 
pendious  discourse  on  wood,  or  to  preserve  for  the  edification  of  our 
selves    and    of   posterity    his    wholly    unprecedented    and    incomparable 
feat  of  pronunciation  in  respect  of  the  complicated  appellative  of  a  dis 
tinguished  prehistoric  Celtic  Ecclesiastic. 

15  MR.  HOSKINS  I  understand  to  be  the  active  and  efficient  incum 
bent  contemporaneously  and  continuously,  of  the  chairs  of  History, 
Economics,  and  General  Utility,  in  the  University  of  Tennessee;  in  all 
of  which  he  gives  complete  satisfaction.  But  these  various  and  incog- 
nate  pursuits  appear  to  make  the  most  moderate  demands  upon  his 
ample  capacities. 

16.  MR.  TURNER.  The  violence  of  Mr.  Turner's  literary  temper 
was  strikingly,  not  to  say  surprisingly,  displayed  for  the  first  time,  when 
the  subject  of  the  Aztecs  was  under  discussion,  and  our  surprise  increased 
to  astonishment  when  his  undiluted  censures  were  directed  to  his  late 

22 


338  NOTES   CRITICAL   AND    EXPLANATORY 

compatriot,  the  historian  Prescott.  That  he  could  disapprove  of  any 
thing  emanating  from  Massachusetts  was  a  demonstration  of  a  liberal 
ity  which,  despite  the  excessiveness  of  its  expression,  could  not  fail  to 
be  gratifying. 

17.  MR.  Ross.     In   regard  to   Mr.   Ross,  the  writer  would   not   be 
understood  as  intimating  that  the  very  learned  paper  on  Fielding  con 
tained   any  positive  approvals  of  Tom   Jones.     Upon  the  contrary  the 
disapprovals  were   as   positively  orthodox  in  form   as   could   have   been 
expected  even  from  one  in  his  responsible  position.     It  was  intimated, 
however,  at  the  time,  that  there  were  certain  skillfully  obscured  quali 
fications  of  his   censures  which   approximated   the   quality  of  condona 
tions.     As  to  the  astucity  of  the  qualifications  there  can  be  no  question, 
but  it  seems  to  be  clear  that  we  have  not  yet  sufficient  grounds  for  an 
unqualified  allegation  of  condonation. 

1 8.  DR.  BRUCE.     It  is  a  fact  that  Dr.  Bruce  has  cultivated  success 
fully  a  system  of  esoteric  calligraphy,  but  it  must  be  conceded  that  this 
is  distinctly  within  his  rights  as  a  man  and  a  scholar.     It  is  due  him  to 
say  that  the  poem,  owing  to  the  inherent  and  necessary  limitations  of 
metrical  composition,  understates  the  extent  of  his  condensation  of  the 
novel  "Pamela,"  as  he  read  within  half  an  hour  a  resume  of  the  most 
interminable  book  that  the  imagination  of  man  has  ever  produced. 

THE  PROLOGUE.  The  classical  introduction  to  the  poem  serves 
mainly  the  purpose  of  irrelevant  ornamentation.  The  author  believed 
that  he  should  do  everything  in  his  power  to  commend  the  poem  to  the 
Club,  and  his  experience  with  writers  and  speakers  has  convinced  him 
that  irrelevancy  in  the  use  of  classical  and  mythological  subjects  is,  by 
usage,  permissible,  and  that  even  the  inconsequential  introduction  of 
them  is  generally  approved.  He  may  add  that  he  has  known  many 
cases  in  which  classical  allusions  were  extremely  effective  and  greatly 
admired,  despite  not  only  their  palpable  irrelevancy,  but  also  their  con 
spicuous  inaccuracy. 

The  irrelevancy  of  the  prologue  is  mitigated  by  the  fact  that  it  is 
intended  to  be  an  invocation  of  the  goddess  Euterpe  who,  by  some  writers, 
is  treated  as  the  muse  of  nonsense. 


"VP'RS!Triv* 


14  DAY  USE 

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LOAN  DEPT. 

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